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A  WOMAN'S  WAY 


OF  CALIF.  LIBRAE*.  LOS  ABGELB 


"OH.  THAT  TIE!" 
SHE  EXCLAIMED 

Page  117 


l  Hi  «M  H  et  Ll« in  ty ,  / » 


WQNANS 
WAY* 


NOVEL 

CHARLES    SOMEKVILLE 


NEW  •••YORK 

WWATT  3  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1909 — BY 
W.  J.  WATT  &  COMPANY 


Published  October 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    THE    HOUSE    BESIEGED 9 

II.     WITHIN  THE   CITADEL 18 

III.  MR.  MORRIS  TAKES  CHARGE 32 

IV.  THE  FORGOTTEN  GLOVES 44 

V.    MARION  STANTON 53 

VI.    AN  UNIQUE  CONVERSATION 65 

VII.    A  NEW  INVASION 77 

VIII.  THE  MOTHERS'  TOURNAMENT     ....     89 

IX.    MARION'S  DECISION 96 

X.    MRS.  BLAKEMORE 103 

XI.  "A  HUSBAND  — To  GIVE  AWAY"      .     .111 

XII.    "A   HOLY  SHOW" 124 

XIII.  THE   WIFE'S   VERSION 135 

XIV.  A  MUTUAL  FRIEND 147 

XV.    A  PROPOSAL  OF  MARRIAGE 160 

XVI.  THE  SHOE  ON  THE  OTHER  FOOT     .     .     .  169 

XVII.    THE  PROOF  OF  LOVE 178 

XVIII.     OLD   FRIENDS 184 

XIX.     OLIVER'S  TIE 194 

XX.    THE  ALL-SEEING  EYE 205 


2133101 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXI.  MR.  LYNCH   REBUFFED 213 

XXII.  A  SIGNAL  OF  DISTRESS 221 

XXIII.  MORRIS  ENLISTED 228 

XXIV.  "LovE   ME" 237 

XXV.  THE  TEST 244 

XXVI.    THE  DISCARD 249 

XXVII.    ANOTHER  BRICK 256 

XXVIII.    STILL  ANOTHER  BRICK 266 

XXIX.  "THAT  REPORTER  is  BACK"     .     .     .     .274 

XXX.    COMPLETE  REVELATION 281 

XXXI.  MARION  TAKES  THE  REINS  AGAIN  .      .     .  289 

XXXII.  THE  CHECKMATING  OP  MR.  LYNCH     .     .  297 

XXXIII.  THE  CALLING  OF  MRS.  BLAKEMORE  .     .     .  301 

XXXIV.  "  I  GIVE  HIM  TO  You " 315 

XXXV.  THE  BACHELOR                                            .  323 


A  WOMAN'S  WAY 


A  WOMAN'S  WAY 


CHAPTER  I 

THE    HOUSE    BESIEGED 

T"  TPPER  Fifth  Avenue,  that  section  above 
\^J  and  beyond  the  realm  of  shops  and  where 
modern  mansions  look  out  only  upon  the 
trimmed  and  clustering  foliage  of  Central 
Park ;  remains  aristocratically  asleep  in  the  early 
morning  hours.  Heavy-eyed  servants  here  and 
there  polishing  the  brass  or  bronze  work  of  the 
massive  portals  furnish  desultory  signs  of  human 
activity.  More  than  this,  there  is  only  the  sharp 
twitter  of  the  sparrows  in  the  park  trees.  The 
blinds  of  the  windows  in  the  big  houses  are  all 
down,  suggesting  the  closed  eyes  of  their  inhabit- 
ants and  the  great  avenue  of  the  rich  stretches 
smooth  and  silent  for  a  mile  or  more  along  the 
grey  park  wall. 

9 


10  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

It  became  remarkable  therefore  that  in  front 
of  the  Stanton  mansion  on  this  morning  there 
should  have  assembled  a  group  of  men  nearly 
numbering  into  the  proportions  of  a  crowd. 
Singly  and  in  pairs  they  had  been  arriving — • 
the  first  of  them  as  early  as  six  o'clock,  the  others 
came  at  intervals  until  about  seven  o'clock.  Two 
of  the  latest  arrivals  had  dashed  up  in  taxicabs. 
One  got  there  in  a  hansom,  but  most  of  them 
had  come  afoot.  They  were  evidently  all  ac- 
quainted with  one  another.  Nods,  grins  and 
spoken  salutations  had  met  every  newcomer  and 
a  general  grin  from  the  group  had  followed 
each  new  arrival  as,  after  a  short  chat,  he 
mounted  the  broad  stone  stairway  and  pushed 
energetically  at  the  ivory  bell  button  in  its 
bronze  frame.  Occasionally,  the  caller  would 
have  to  push  the  button  five  or  six  times  before 
gaining  a  response.  In  each  case  the  final  re- 
sult was  the  same.  The  inner  door  would  be 
slowly,  almost  stealthily  opened  and  only  for  a 
few  inches.  From  the  street  one  might  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  heavy,  pale  face  of  Stanton's  but- 
ler. It  always  wore  a  frown.  The  talk  would 
be  short  and  always  with  the  butler's  heavy  head 
wagging  decisively  in  a  surly  negative  and  then 


THE  HOUSE  BESIEGED  11 

the  other  man,  sometimes  with  a  muttered  impre- 
cation, sometimes  with  a  smile  or  again  with  a 
shrug  of  the  shoulders  would  descend  the  steps 
and  join  the  little  crowd  below. 

It  was  a  restless  group  and  noticeably  its 
members  were  all  young  men,  eager,  wide-awake, 
alert  despite  the  early  hour  of  the  day.  Four 
of  them  carried  large  cameras,  whose  mechanism 
they  tested  from  time  to  time.  Each  had  photo- 
graphed the  Stanton  mansion. 

After  the  last  man  had  arrived  and,  like  the 
others,  been  rebuffed  at  the  door,  there  had  been 
no  departures.  They  all  stayed  on. 

It  was  their  duty  to  do  so.  For  this  little 
crowd  of  young  men  formed  the  advance  line 
of  the  press  —  the  skirmishers  who  had  been 
sent  out  to  the  siege  of  the  citadel  wherein  lay, 
what  the  city  editors  —  their  commanders  — 
regarded  as  the  "  big  story  of  the  day."  Cus- 
tomarily the  young  men  of  their  commands  — 
the  staffs  of  the  evening  newspapers  did  not  re- 
port until  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning.  But 
each  of  them  was  required  to  have  a  telephone 
somewhere  near  his  bedside  in  order  that,  quite 
like  a  fireman  or  policeman,  a  jingling  call  of 
the  bell  could  bring  him  bounding  out  of  bed 


12  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

to  face  an  emergency  in  the  inexorably  and  im- 
peratively swift  game  of  news-gathering.  On 
this  occasion,  these  signals  had  rung  the  scouts 
of  the  press  up  as  early  as  five  o'clock.  The 
clipped,  curt  instructions  from  city  editors  had 
been  very  much  alike. 

Cottrell  of  the  Evening  Journal,  for  instance, 
had  spoken  to  his  man,  Markfield,  as  follows, 
patting  his  free  hand  decisively  on  his  desk  be- 
side the  telephone  as  he  spoke,  which  was  a  habit 
he  had  when  he  was  very  much  in  earnest : 

"  Hello,  Markfield,  sorry  to  rouse  you  out  — 
but  it's  important  —  big  stuff.  The  morning 
papers  have  only  a  smell  of  it.  Biggest  society 
sensation  in  years.  And  we  must  get  the  goods 
on  it.  I'll  send  Ironson  up  with  his  camera 
and  Pinover  and  Crawford  up  to  help  you.  And 
go  to  it  for  all  you're  worth. 

"  Listen : 

"  Stanton  —  Howard  Stanton  —  yes  —  that's 
right,  son  of  the  multi-millionaire ;  married  only 
a  little  while  ago  —  yes ;  that's  right,  married 
General  Livingston's  daughter  —  newly  rich 
and  old,  blue-blood  combination.  Know  where 
they  live  in  Fifth  Avenue?  Good.  This  is  what 
has  happened.  Stanton  smashed  his  auto  last 


THE  HOUSE  BESIEGED  13 

night,  a  little  out  of  New  Haven.  Dinner; 
wine  and  all  that.  Got  too  gay  with  the  speed. 
I've  got  Bangs  and  a  photographer  up  there 
at  the  scene  of  the  accident  now.  Yes ;  Stan- 
ton's  hurt,  but  not  much.  That  isn't  the  story, 
though.  Stanton  had  a  swell  girl  in  the  auto 
with  him.  She  got  hurt,  too.  And  it  wasn't 
his  wife!  Now  are  you  wise?  Stanton  was 
taken  to  his  home.  And  the  woman  was  taken 
away  in  another  auto  —  to  her  home.  Don't 
know  who  she  is.  But  Stanton's  been  leading 
the  gay  life  for  some  time  now.  Seldom  seen 
with  his  wife,  and  there's  going  to  be  some- 
thing doing  when  young  Mrs.  Stanton  finds 
out  —  and  the  old  General,  too.  He'll  prob- 
ably die  of  apoplexy,  or  shoot  Stanton.  He's 
the  proudest  old  fire-eating  aristocrat  in  the 
town.  So  get  on  the  job.  Make  Stanton  talk. 
He's  got  to.  He's  got  to  make  some  bluff  at 
an  explanation.  And  do  your  blamedest  to 
identify  the  woman  who  was  with  him.  But,  at 
the  same  time,  Markfield,  don't  let  enthusiasm 
run  away  with  your  judgment.  It's  a  delicate 
case  and  be  mighty  sure  of  your  facts.  There'll 
be  a  million-dollar  libel  suit  back  of  any  slip-up. 
But  go  to  it.  Stanton's  got  to  talk.  He's 


14  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

got  to  say  something.  And  try  for  Mrs.  Stan- 
ton.  She  may  be  so  indignant  that  she'll  hand 
out  some  hot  stuff.  Maybe  she's  sent  for  her 
lawyer.  Watch  out  for  that.  All  right. 
Don't  fail  to  get  me  on  the  'phone  and  give  me 
the  lay  of  the  land  inside  of  an  hour.  Good- 
bye." 

Similar  talks  from  equally  anxious  city  edi- 
tors had  massed  the  small  band  of  alert  reporters 
at  the  Stanton  mansion.  But  all  had  met  the 
same  imperturbable  wall  of  opposition  in  the 
person  of  the  Stanton  butler. 

"  Mr.  Stanton  won't  see  no  reporters.  Mrs. 
Stanton  won't  neither.  Hi  cawn't  take  your 
card  in,  sir.  It's  me  orders.  Now,  that's  h'all, 
sir.  I  cawn't  do  it.  No  use  to  talk  more,  sir." 

And  the  butler  had  slowly  but  firmly  shut  the 
door  in  every  case.  Even  when  Gallegher  of 
the  World  had  deliberately  thrust  his  foot  inside 
the  door  to  prevent  the  closing  of  the  barrier, 
the  butler  had  only  applied  extra  vigor  to  the 
hand  he  had  on  the  knob  as  he  said  indignantly : 

"  No  use  of  your  trying  that  sort  of  thing, 
sir.  I  'as  me  orders.  Nothink  will  be  said  by 
nobody  to  nobody,  sir." 


THE  HOUSE  BESIEGED  15 

Gallegher  having  relieved  his  feelings  by  call- 
ing the  butler  a  "  pie-faced  mut  of  a  flunkey," 
joined  his  companions  in  council.  The  council 
decided  that  the  only  thing  to  do  was  to  play 
a  waiting  game  —  to  camp  outside  the  house  and 
see  who  came  out  of  it  or  who  entered.  They 
discussed  the  possibility  of  Mrs.  Stanton  "going 
home  to  her  mother  "  that  very  morning  and  of 
the  chances  of  her  giving  out  a  statement  when 
she  went.  Or  perhaps  old  General  Livingston 
would  be  along  with  his  indignation  aflame  and 
a  revolver,  or  a  horse-whip  for  Howard  Stan- 
ton.  Or  the  lawyers  might  be  called  on. 

At  this  juncture  that  happened  which  caused 
the  young  men  of  the  press  no  little  satisfac- 
tion. The  silent  street  suddenly  resounded  with 
the  cries  of  "  Yuxtra  —  Yuxtra."  There  was 
a  duet  —  the  shrill  pipe  of  a  skinny  boy  mingled 
with  the  hoarse  cry  of  a  red-faced  man.  The 
early  editions  of  the  Journal  and  World  flaunted 
from  their  arms.  And  as  they  passed  the  Stan- 
ton  house  a  maid  servant  appeared  from  the 
basement  at  the  same  time  that  the  heavy  butler 
appeared  on  the  steps  above.  Both  bought  cop- 
ies of  newspapers,  conducting  the  transaction 


16  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

hastily,  not  waiting  for  the  pennies  in  change, 
but  swiftly  withdrawing  into  the  house  the  in- 
stant the  papers  were  in  their  hands. 

Gallegher  grinned. 

"  That's  pretty  good,"  he  said.  "  A  set  of 
papers  for  Stanton  and,"  he  added  significantly, 
"  a  set  for  Mrs.  Stanton." 

He  gazed  at  the  drawn  curtains  of  the  man- 
sion. 

"  Looks  as  peaceful  as  a  church,"  he  com- 
mented. "  But  I'll  bet  there  are  some  house- 
hold sky-rockets  going  off  in  there  now  —  or 
will  be  as  soon  as  little  Mrs.  Stanton  has  read 
those  head-lines." 

"  I  guess  that's  no  lie,"  said  a  gray-eyed, 
curly-haired,  slender  reporter.  "  After  all,"  he 
went  on,  dropping  the  jocular,  impersonal  cyn- 
ical tone  which  reporters  adopt  in  discussng  the 
tragedies  as  well  as  the  comedies  of  life  which 
come  under  their  observation,  "  after  all,  it's 
kind  of  too  bad.  I  covered  their  wedding,  you 
know.  She  was  one  of  the  prettiest,  sweetest 
little  brides  you  ever  saw  —  had  the  dandiest 
little  smile  and  carried  herself  like  a  thorough- 
bred. And  she  is.  The  Livingstons  are  some 
class  —  there's  no  getting  around  that.  And 


THE  HOUSE  BESIEGED  17 

young  Stanton  certainly  filled  in  the  picture  just 
right  —  tall,  straight,  clear-skinned  and  j  ust 
awkward  enough  to  be  all  right.  They  were 
certainly  as  fine  looking  a  couple  as  I  ever  saw 
step  up.  I'm  sorry  that  little  lady  has  got  the 
worst  of  it.  Wonder  who  the  other  one  is? 
Wonder  if  she's  got  a  hubby  ?  Maybe  this  isn't 
the  only  house  where  domestic  sky-rockets  are 
popping." 


CHAPTER  II 

WITHIN    THE    CITADEL 

MR.  GALLEGHER'S  surmise  of  flaring 
"  sky-rockets  of  domestic  dissension " 
within  the  Stanton  house  was  not  at  this  mo- 
ment correct.  Silence  was  absolute  in  all  the 
rooms.  The  servants  walked  softly  and  talked 
softly.  Young  Mrs.  Stanton  was,  as  far  as 
anyone  knew,  fast  asleep  in  her  own  blue  and 
white  bed-chamber. 

Stanton,  whose  injured  arm  and  outraged  con- 
science had  both  continued  twinging  since  his 
arrival  home  very  late  in  the  night,  had  not  slept 
at  all.  He  had  aroused  his  valet,  secured  the 
refreshment  of  a  bath  and  a  change  of  clothing, 
received  a  hurried  visit  from  the  family  physi- 
cian and  then,  in  guilty  restlessness  sought  a 
big  chair  in  the  library.  Uneasily,  yet  almost 
involuntarily,  such  was  his  natural  state  of  anxi- 
ety, he  had  sent  for  the  morning  newspapers.  In 
them  he  had  found  the  headlines  recording  the 
18 


WITHIN  THE  CITADEL  19 

accident  very  prominently,  but  the  details  were 
meagre.  None  had  identified  his  companion  of 
the  disastrous  ride.  And  this  was,  at  any  rate, 
a  solid  rock  of  comfort  in  a  sea  of  trouble.  He 
had  gone  over  the  sheets  feverishly,  tossing 
them  heedlessly  aside  so  that  they  littered  his 
knees  and  his  feet.  Suddenly  his  eyes  drooped 
heavily.  The  healthy  reaction  from  shock  and 
nervousness  had  come.  He  threw  his  head  back 
in  the  big  leather  chair,  drew  a  newspaper  over 
his  face  and  sank  into  slumber.  But  it  was  not 
unbroken.  Every  little  while  his  body  started 
and  twitched  as  the  sharp  rattle  of  the  door  gong 
struck  upon  his  ears.  These  were  the  volleys  the 
reporters  aimed  in  their  efforts  to  invade  the  cita- 
del wherein  for  them,  lay  the  treasure  of  the 
day's  "  big  story." 

Nor  was  this  the  only  method  of  attack.  Vol- 
leys were  being  fired  at  long  distance.  Every 
few  seconds  the  telephone  on  the  little  table  in 
the  corner  of  the  library  buzzed  with  angry  in- 
sistence. Overwrought  city  editors  had  young 
men  in  the  newspaper  offices  at  the  other  ends 
of  the  wires  keeping  up  a  clamor  for  informa- 
tion. 

Grave,  fat,  but  soft  of  tread,  Wilson,  the  but- 


20  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

ler,  was  at  the  end  of  his  trained  official  pa- 
tience. 

At  the  noise  of  the  latest  conversation,  Stan- 
ton  moved  upright  in  the  chair,  the  newspaper 
falling  from  his  countenance.  His  brow  was 
puckered ;  his  eyes  angry. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  Wilson  was  saying ;  "  this  is  Mr. 
Stanton's.  I  cawn't  speak  no  louder.  Yes ; 
Mr.  'Oward  Stanton's.  Who  is  it,  you  say? 
Ho  !  the  Journal.  No,  sir ;  I  wish  you  wouldn't. 
Why  —  this  is  the  eighth  time  you've  called  this 
morning.  Mr.  Stanton  will  not  speak  with 
you." 

Wilson  put  up  the  receiver  emphatically. 
Stanton  fell  back  in  his  chair.  Both  were  halted 
suddenly  in  their  movements  by  a  renewed  buzz- 
ing of  the  telephone.  Wilson  was  almost  be- 
trayed into  making  an  audible  expression  of  his 
annoyance,  as  he  made  his  way  back  to  the  in- 
strument with  his  formal  and  measured  tread. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  he  answered,  and  then  disgust- 
edly, "  Ho  —  the  World,  you  say.  I  don't 
know,  sir  —  I  cawn't  say.  Automobile  acci- 
dent? I  don't  know  anything  about  it.  Yes 
—  quite  —  I  know  you've  called  nine  times  this 


WITHIN  THE  CITADEL  21 

morning  —  I  know  it,  sir.  I  don't  know  noth- 
ing about  Mr.  Stanton  and  no  other  woman. 
I  don't  know  nothing  about  Mrs.  Stanton.  I 
don't  know  nothing  about  nothing."  Wilson 
paused.  "  No,"  he  added,  "  he'll  not  speak 
with  no  one." 

And  Wilson  would  have  moved  away,  his  eyes 
quite  expressionless  as  they  turned  in  his  master's 
direction,  but  again  the  little  buzzer  rattled  the 
signal  of  a  new  invasion.  Well-trained  serv- 
ants all  have  the  art  of  swearing  'way  down  in 
their  stomachs  and  Wilson  undoubtedly  had  a 
diaphragm  bulging  with  profanity  as  he  took 
up  the  wire-talk  anew. 

"  Yes  —  yes.  Ho  —  the  Post,  you  say." 
Wilson's  tone  grew  milder,  the  Post  being  a 
newspaper  very  much  as  he  was  a  man,  heavy, 
stolid,  devoted  to  the  service  of  the  rich.  "  I 
cawn't  say.  I  don't  know."  Wilson's  voice 
rose  a  pitch  higher.  "  The  Post  ?  "  he  de- 
manded suddenly.  "  It  sounds  very  much  like 
the  same  voice  that  called  this  morning  and  said 
it  was  the  Journal.  Yes,  the  Journal!  "  Wil- 
son involuntarily  fell  back  "  Ho ;  no,  sir,"  he 
gasped  into  the  receiver.  "  Didn't  say  you  was 


that !  I  didn't  call  you  names.  What?  Go  to 
where?  Well,  I  won't  go  there,"  declared  the 
butler  sturdily ;  "  I  say  I  won't." 

He  clapped  up  the  receiver  with  a  snap.  He 
was  immediately  perturbed  in  his  unwonted  emo- 
tional display,  by  hearing  young  Mr.  Stanton 
sharply  exclaim: 

"Oh  — Oh!" 

Wilson  faced  quickly.  He  saw  then  that  the 
exclamations  were  not  in  anger,  but  in  pain. 

"  Wilson,"  demanded  young  Mr.  Stanton, 
"  why  wasn't  I  born  with  three  hands  ?  " 

The  man's  eyes  opened  widely  into  something 
of  a  startled  stare. 

"I  —  I  —  couldn't  say,  sir  —  really." 

His  youthful  master  frowned. 

"  Well  —  if  I'd  three  hands,  I  could  have 
used  two  of  them  to  manage  the  damned  ma- 
chine," said  Stanton  illuminatively.  "  Motor- 
ing with  women,  Wilson,  will  never  be  a  safe 
sport  until  we  grow  men  with  three  arms." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  returned  the  butler  affably. 
"  Will  you  have  the  papers,  sir?  " 

Stanton  shot  a  glance  embracing  newspapers 
on  the  table,  on  his  knees,  covering  his  feet,  scat- 
tered all  over  the  floor.  He  grunted. 


WITHIN  THE  CITADEL  23 

"  Thought  I  had  'em  all  —  this  side  of  Chi- 
cago," he  replied. 

"  You  have  the  morning  newspapers,  sir. 
But  the  afternoon  editions  is  starting  to  come 
out  now,  sir.  Thought  you  might  like  to  see 
this,  sir." 

With  something  like  eagerness  beneath  his 
official  calm,  the  butler  held  forth  a  copy  of  the 
Evening  Journal  —  held  it  with  the  sheet  at 
full  length  so  that  young  Mr.  Stanton's  eyes 
were  vividly  filled  with  a  sight  of  the  word 
"  Divorce "  in  ponderous  letters  of  black, 
stretching  across  the  whole  width  of  the  page. 

"  Very  thoughtful  of  you,  Wilson,"  com- 
mented Stanton.  But  the  shade  of  sarcasm  in 
his  tone  was  lost.  « 

"  Yes,  sir,  thank  you,  sir,"  said  Wilson  am- 
iably. 

Stanton  took  the  newspapers  in  his  hands. 
He  contemplated  the  head-lines  anew.  He  shiv- 
ered. 

"  You've  read  that  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"I  —  saw  —  saw  the  head-lines,  sir." 

Stanton  shrugged  the  shoulders  of  his  green- 
plaid  dressing  gown. 

"  In  that  case,"  he  said,  "  I  couldn't  deprive 


24  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

you  of  the  rest  of  it,  Wilson.  Read  it  aloud  to 
me." 

The  hand  that  gave  over  the  paper  percep- 
tibly trembled. 

Wilson  was  slow  to  take  the  paper. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  he  said  confusedly.  But  he 
braced  and  the  huge  head-line  lost  none  of  its 
sensational  effectiveness  when  he  brought  it  out. 

"  Divorce,"  he  read  with  declamatory  force. 

"  Yes  — " 

"  Divorce"  repeated  Wilson. 

"  You've  read  that  once,"  cut  in  Stanton. 

"  Yes,  sir,  but  it's  here  twice,  sir." 

"  Oh." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  thank  you  sir.  DIVORCE  —  in 
Smart  Set  to  Follow  Sensational  Automobile 
Accident.  Wronged  Wife  Hurries  to  Injured 
Husband — ."  Wilson,  almost  lost  in  the  en- 
thusiasm of  his  rendering,  suddenly  paused. 
"  It  says  just  that,  sir,"  he  parenthesized. 

"  I  don't  doubt  it,  Wilson." 

Stanton's  tone  was  so  matter  of  fact  that 
Wilson  took  up  the  reading  with  new  gusto. 

"  Who  is  the  other  woman,"  he  uttered  with 
dramatic  accusatory  force. 

Stanton  half  sprung  out  of  his  chair. 


HELD    IT    SO   THAT   YOUNG    MR.    STANTON's    EYES    WERE    VIVIDLY    FILLED    WITH 
\  SIGHT  OF  THE    WORD   "DIVORCE"  Page  23 


WITHIN  THE  CITADEL          25 

"What?"  he  demanded. 

"  It  says  that  here,  sir,"  said  Wilson  hastily. 

Stanton  subsided.  He  looked  Wilson  fully 
in  the  eye. 

"  Yes  —  yes  —  I  see,"  he  observed,  "  but 
don't  read  it  as  though  you  enjoyed  it  so 
damned  much." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Thus  admonished,  Wilson's  unction  faded 
from  his  tones.  He  read  that  which  followed  in 
the  newspaper  without  elocutionary  zest. 

"  That  a  sensational  divorce  suit  in  the  smart 
set  will  follow  the  mysterious  automobile  acci- 
dent in  which  a  gay,  young  millionaire  was  dan- 
gerously injured  and  an  unknown  beautiful 
young  woman  miraculously  escaped  death  was 
learned  on  good  authority  to-day  by  a  reporter 
for  this  paper." 

Stanton's  calm  broke. 

"  Good  authority  —  bah !  "  he  cried. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  returned  Wilson,  confirmatorily 
and  continued.  "  Although  every  effort  is  being 
made  to  shroud  the  affair  in  mystery  and  with- 
hold the  identity  of  the  young  millionaire  and 
his  fair  companion  it  was  definitely  established 
by  the  Evening  Journal  that  the  wrecked  car  be- 


26  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

longed  to  Howard  Stanton,  the  young  million- 
aire whose  sensational  escapades  have  more  than 
once  brought  him  into  public  notice." 

"  See  here,  Wilson  —  are  you  reading  that 
right?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Young  Stanton  fell  back  again  in  his  ch?ir. 
"  At  the  home  of  Mr.  Stanton  all  information 
was  denied.  Mrs.  Stanton — " 

Howard  Stanton  got  up  suddenly.  The  goad 
was  intolerable. 

"  That  will  do,  Wilson  —  er  —  well,  they 
really  don't  know  any  more  than  I  do  —  don't 
jiee,  Wilson,  what  use  there  was  in  buying  the 
damned  paper." 

Wilson  hastily  placed  the  sheet  on  the  table 
with  the  air  of  reducing  some  obstreperous  thing 
to  quietude. 

"  Anything  else,  sir?  " 

Stanton  paused.  When  he  began  to  speak, 
he  meant  that  his  tone  should  be  casual  but  in 
this  he  hardly  succeeded  as  he  asked : 

"  Anyone  call  me  on  the  phone?  " 

"  Yes  sir  —  Journal  five  times ;  World  nine 
times;  Sim,  Globe  five  times;  Mail,  Telegram, 


WITHIN  THE  CITADEL          27 

Staats-Zeitung,  one  time.  I  told  them  you  were 
out,  sir." 

"  Is  that  all?  You  forgot  the  Herald,  Times 
and  Telegraph." 

"  They  "  replied  the  butler,  "  are  morning 
papers,  sir.  It  isn't  time  for  them  yet." 

"  Excuse  me,  Wilson,"  said  Stanton  humbly. 

"  Yes,  sir,  but,"  he  added,  "  police  head- 
quarters and  the  Coroner's  office  called." 

Stanton,  his  hands  thrust  into  the  pocket  of 
his  dressing  gown,  wheeled  about  and  stood 
rigidly  and  stared  at  the  butler. 

"What?"*  he  demanded.  "The  Coroner's 
office?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  They  wanted  to  know  if  there 
was  any  truth  in  the  report  that  Mrs.  Stanton 
had  attempted  suicide  when  she  heard  the  story." 

"  This  is  infamous." 

"  Yes,  sir  —  but  it  was  the  same  voice  that 
called  eight  times  before,  sir." 

As  if  telepathically,  the  'phone  buzzed  anew. 

"  Take  that  receiver  down  and  don't  answer 
that  'phone  if  the  devil  himself  calls  in  person," 
commanded  young  Mr.  Stanton.  • 

"  Yes,  sir.     Anything  else,  sir?  " 


28  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Anyone  been  here  to  see  me  ?  " 

"  A  crowd  of  young  men  in  front  ever  since 
last  night  and  early  this  morning,  sir.  I  think 
they  are  newspaper  men." 

Stanton  tightened  his  lips. 

"  See  if  they  are  still  there." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Wilson  moved  to  a  front  window.  He  drew 
back  the  curtains.  He  peered  forth  as  cau- 
tiously. 

"  They  are  there,  sir." 

"All  of  them?" 

"  Yes,  sir."  And  for  further  comfort  he 
added.  "  And  some  more,  sir.  And  one  — 
two  —  three  —  four  —  five  —  six  —  seven  — 
seven  photographers,  sir." 

Suddenly  Wilson  was  betrayed  into  a  wild, 
backward  leap  from  the  window. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  asked  Stanton  in  the 
surprise  of  Wilson's  unwonted  agility. 

"  O,  they've  taken  my  picture,  sir." 

Stanton  grinned. 

"  Well,  that's  all  right,  your  picture,"  he 
said. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Anything  more  ?     Look  again." 


WITHIN  THE  CITADEL,  29 

A  big  game  hunter  parting  the  foilage  of  a 
jungle  where  he  anticipated  the  discovery  of  a 
tigress  and  her  cubs,  could  not  have  exercised 
greater  caution  than  did  Wilson  as  he  drew 
back  the  curtains  and  applied  his  eye  to  the 
tiniest  possible  aperture  through  which  he  could 
gaze. 

«  Well?  "  asked  Stanton. 

"  Three  cabs  and  a  motor  car  —  just  drove 
up  —  more  newspapermen,  sir.  They  are  wait- 
ing for  you  —  expecting  you  to  come  out,  sir." 

Stanton  looked  startled.     Then  he  smiled. 

"  They'd  better  take  a  lease,"  he  observed. 

"Yes,  sir." 

Then  Wilson  did  an  extraordinary  thing  — 
for  him.  He  laughed  outright,  spontaneously. 

"  O,"  he  said,  "  I  beg  pardon,  sir." 

"Well,— what  is  it?" 

Stanton  started  for  the  window  himself  but 
just  as  he  was  about  to  stare  out,  he  recollected 
the  circumstances  and  the  threatening  camera 
eyes  without  and  drew  swiftly  back. 

"What's  the  matter  —  you,  idiot?"  he  cried 
at  the  butler. 

Wilson's  face  was  again  absolutely  grave. 

"  It's  Mr.  Morris,  sir.     He  just  drove  up  in  a 


30  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

hansom.     They    are   taking    his   picture,    sir." 

The  laugh  that  the  sight  had  drawn  out  of 
Wilson,  was  now  duplicated  by  his  master. 

"  Fine ! "  grinned  Stanton  gleefully.  He 
tried  himself  to  look  without  being  seen. 
"  What  are  they  doing,  Wilson  ?  " 

"  They  are  all  of  them  trying  to  talk  to  him 
at  once.  He  seems  a  bit  agitated,  sir.  He's 
shaking  his  cane,  sir,  and  they  are  taking  his 
picture  and  —  and,"  concluded  the  horrified 
Wilson,  "  a  laughing  at  him,  sir !  " 

The  butler's  word  painting  of  the  quandary 
of  Mr.  Morris  —  Ned  Morris  —  Stanton's 
portly,  pretentious  brother-in-law ;  apostle  of 
rigid  social  conventionality,  of  much  self-con- 
scious dignity  that  was  in  his  profession  of  the 
law  and  because  of  his  advantageous  social  con- 
nection complimentarily  taken  to  indicate  in- 
herent gravity  and  sagacity ;  Morris  whose  code 
of  conduct  was  as  nicely  and  evenly  trimmed  as 
his  brown  mustache ;  whose  nature  was  all  f  atous- 
ness  where  Stanton's  so  easily  stirred  toward  the 
farcical,  made  the  young  millionaire  chuckle 
aloud  in  the  face  of  Wilson,  and  made  him  laugh 
anew  when  a  frantic  ringing  of  the  door  bell  be- 
tokened that  his  ponderous  and  pseudo-profound 


WITHIN  THE  CITADEL          31 

relation  was  most  urgently  seeking  escape  from 
his  predicament.  Young  Stanton  lost  sight  of 
himself  in  the  matter  completely.  At  a  renewed 
ringing  of  the  bell,  he  slapped  his  knee  and  said. 

"  Go  it,  Ned ! " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Wilson  by  force  of  habit. 

"  I  think  he  must  want  to  come  in,  Wilson," 
grinned  Stanton. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  then  show  him  in,  you  idiot ! " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Wilson,"  yelled  Stanton  as  the  butler  passed 
into  the  hallway. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Don't  let  any  of  those  reporters  in." 

"  No,  sir.  But  the  last  time  I  had  to  open 
the  front  door  one  of  them  put  his  foot  inside 
the  edge  and  I  had  to  squeeze  it.  I  am  afraid 
I  hurt  him,  sir." 

"  Hurt  him,"  retorted  Stanton  indignantly. 
"  Kill  him !  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Wilson  formally. 

Young  Stanton  swept  the  room  at  a  glance 
but  his  smiling  eyes  rested  on  nothing  in  par- 
ticular. 

"  Ned  of  all  people  !  "  he  cried.     "  Great !  " 


CHAPTER  III 

MR.    MORRIS    TAKES    CHARGE 

THE  excitement  that  had  raised  an  apoplec- 
tic flush  to  the  face  of  Mr.  Edward  Morris 
must  have  been  great  indeed  for  the  punctilious 
gentlemen  forgot  to  hand  his  hat  and  stick  to 
the  butler  but  instead  entered  with  that  glossy, 
high  headgear  pushed  back  from  his  reddened 
brow  and  his  walking  stick  waved  wildly. 
His  white  waistcoat  about  a  girth  showing  first 
signs  of  rotundity,  was  rumpled.  His  breath 
was  coming  shortly  and  above  all  his  usually 
steady  and  even  stolid  eyes  were  roving  wildly 
and  with  indignation. 

Stanton's  own  frank  eyes  grew  merrier.  He 
did  not  try  to  hide  his  smile. 

"  Did  they  take  your  picture  that  way,  old 
boy  ?  "  he  asked  with  a  contemplatively  moving 
glance. 

"  Now  see  here,  Howard,"  blurted  Morris  at 
this  further  sting  to  his  fondly  nurtured  dig- 
32 


MR.  MORRIS  TAKES  CHARGE       33 

nity.  "  This  is  no  laughing  matter."  The 
lawyer  paused  until  his  breath  came  more  freely. 
"  Disgracing  your  family  —  disgracing  me!  " 

Stanton  raised  his  eye-brows. 

"  Wait  a  minute  —  wait  a  minute."  said  he. 
"  Will  you  kindly  tell  me,  Ned  —  where  do  you 
come  in?  " 

Pompously  and  angrily  Morris  replied: 

"  I  —  am  your  sister's  husband." 

"  O,  well,"  said  Stanton  with  a  short  wave  of 
the  hand,  "  any  girl  is  likely  to  make  a  mistake. 
Don't  be  sore  on  her  for  that." 

"  Sir,"  began  Morris  and  then  dropping  his 
regulation  legal  tone,  he  supplemented: 
"  What?  " 

Stanton  again  waved  his  hand,  more  smoothly, 
blandly  than  before. 

"  Suppose  you  weren't  my  sister's  husband  — 
what  then  ?  Couple  of  thousand  a  year  for  you 
—  maybe  —  maybe  not.  As  it  is  —  nice  house ; 
fair  girl  —  good  clothes,  great  grub,  wonderful 
brother-in-law  and  manage  the  property  and  — 
and  even  have  your  picture  taken  for  nothing. 
You  are  not  in  so  awful  bad  — " 

"  Look     here,     Howard,"     declared     Morris 


34  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

quickly.  "  I  came  up  here  to  help  get  you  out 
of  this  scrape." 

Stanton  did  not  repulse  the  desire  for  concilia- 
tion manifested. 

"  I  know  you  did,"  he  said  nicely.  "  I  just 
wanted  to  get  it  out  of  your  head  that  you  were 
doing  me  a  favor.  Its  a  part  of  your  j  ob  — 
brother-in-law  —  to  do  what  you  are  doing. 
That's  why  I  plugged  so  hard  for  you  with 
Belle.  Thought  it  was  cheaper  giving  you  her 
share  than  paying  you  all  mine  to  keep  me  out 
of  trouble."  Stanton  laughed.  "  Oh  —  I'm  a 
business  man,"  he  concluded. 

"  Yes,"  retorted  Morris.  "  This  looks  like  it." 

From  the  breast  of  his  coat  he  drew  forth, 
unfolded  and  displayed  at  full  length  another 
edition  of  the  Journal.  There  was  something 
in  the  way  of  an  addition  to  the  first  head- 
line. The  type  was  as  big.  "  Divorce  "  loomed 
forth  in  the  big  black  letters  but  above  it  in  type 
as  large  flared  in  crimson  the  startling  word 
"  Scandal." 

Stanton  fell  back. 

"  Good  gracious !  Another ! "  he  gasped. 
He  walked  to  the  table  and  took  up  the  other 


MR.  MORRIS  TAKES  CHARGE   35 

"  extra."  He  put  them  side  by  side,  "Divorce  " 
staring  at  him  twice  from  the  papers. 

"  What  is  it?  "  asked  Morris  anxiously. 

"  This  '  Divorce '  is  a  pretty  good  forecast," 
answered  Stanton.  He  was  no  longer  laugh- 
ing. 

"  Good  heavens,  man,"  questioned  his  brother- 
in-law,  "  you  don't  mean  that  Marion  and  you 
have  separated?  " 

"  Don't  try  to  throw  that  front,  Ned,"  was 
Stanton's  impatient  retort.  "  You  know  as  well 
as  I  know  —  as  well  as  Marion  knows  —  that 
she  and  I  have  been  separated  for  months  — " 

"  But  she's  been  living  here." 

"  Yes."  The  young  man  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  "  Good  house  for  entertaining  and 
its  her's  anyhow."  He  grimaced.  "  We've 
been  almost  as  intimate,"  he  said,  "  as  two  people 
who  do  not  talk  the  same  language." 

"  What's  wrong?  " 

Stanton  walked  over  to  the  library  table  and 
stood  a  few  seconds  tapping  it  with  knuckles. 

"  I  don't  "know,"  he  said  finally.  "  Too  much 
•money,  I  guess.  Marion's  a  splendid  girl,  Ned. 
Finest  in  the  world."  He  said  it  very  earnestly. 


36  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  She  likes  me  in  a  way  but  — "  Stanton  again 
took  up  one  of  the  newspapers,  glanced  at  the 
headline  and  put  it  down  again.  "  Hang  it, 
Ned,"  he  concluded  suddenly,  "  there  ought  to 
be  a  law  preventing  kids  marrying  until  they 
know  their  own  minds." 

"  Humph,"  cried  Morris,  his  composure  and 
dignity  somewhat  regained.  "  You  two  kicked 
up  a  jolly  row  till  you'd  fixed  it." 

The  portly  lawyer  was  shocked  to  hear  from 
Stanton  an  outburst  of  irresponsible  laughter. 

"  By  George ! "  exclaimed  the  handsome 
young  chap,  "  I  can  see  those  headlines  now  — 
"  Lochinvar  Outdone !  —  Yale  Athlete  Carries 
Off  Vassar  Girl  in  Motor."  Stanton  paused. 
"  Gee,  she  did  look  good  that  night,"  he  ended 
with  enthusiasm. 

"  She  looks  just  as  good  now,"  observed  Mor- 
ris with  an  elder  brother  air  of  admonishment. 
"  Rather  better." 

Stanton's  enthusiasm  dropped. 

"  Er  —  yes,"  he  said  with  indifference. 

"  Can't  it  be  fixed,  old  boy  ?  "  asked  Morris 
and  there  was  genuine  kindliness  in  his  voice. 

Stanton  looked  directly  at  Morris.  There 
was  clearly  wistf ulness  in  his  tones  as  he  said : 


MR.  MORRIS  TAKES  CHARGE   37 

"  There's  no  record  of  any  fellow  dreaming 
the  same  dream  twice,  and  you  know  it,  my 
dear  Ned.  When  you  wake  up,  you  wake 
up  and  when  you  go  to  sleep  again,  it's  another 
dream." 

"  Then  I  take  it,"  observed  Morris  in  his 
heavy  fashion,  "  you  and  Marion  have  waked 
up?" 

Stanton  answered  with  the  same  depth  and 
sincerity  with  which  he  had  spoken  before. 

"  It  might  have  been  all  right  with  a  little 
place  in  the  country  and  a  couple  of  kids;  but 
dad's  money  and  Marion's  health  killed  that. 
Then  she  went  in  for  society  and  culture  on  the 
side." 

Morris  permitted  himself  the  indulgence  of  a 
cold  smile. 

"  And  you  for  sports  and  the  chorus  on  the 
side." 

"  Oh,  cut  that  preach  thing,"  said  Stanton 
sharply. 

"  Well,  all  I  can  say  is,"  pursued  Morris, 
"  it's  a  damned  shame  it  didn't  stick.  You  are 
both  thoroughbreds." 

"  Now  you've  hit  it,  Ned.  Thoroughbreds 
don't  do  for  double  harness  and  every  time 


38  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

there's  a  kicking  match  I've  been  the  one 
kicked." 

The  young  husband  flung  himself  despon- 
dently into  the  big  chair. 

"  Don't  see  really  what  I  was  born  for,"  he 
muttered,  "  unless  it  was  to  give  these  newspaper 
chaps  something  to  do." 

Morris  also  took  a  chair. 

"This  latest?"  he  inquired.  "You  and  a 
young  woman  being  injured  is  —  is  true?  " 

"  Absolutely." 

"  In  that  case,"  declared  the  society  man  and 
lawyer,  "  it  must  be  denied  at  once." 

Stanton  smiled  cordially. 

"  I  knew  I  did  right  to  persuade  Belle  to  take 
you."  And  when  Morris  looked  sourly  on  the 
jest,  he  added,  "  It  wasn't  an  easy  task  either." 

Morris  impatiently  took  up  the  original 
thread. 

"  The  woman  will  keep  quiet  ?  " 

"  She's  not  exactly  proud  of  it,  you  know." 

"  But  if  she's  in  the  chorus  ?  " 

"  She  isn't." 

"  Manicure  or  milliner?  " 

"  Neither." 


MR.  MORRIS  TAKES  CHARGE   39 

Morris  slowly  slapped  his  knee  with  a  soft 
palm. 

"  Good.     Then  we'll  tell  Marion  it  isn't  true." 

"  What?  Lie  to  Marion?  "  The  young  fel- 
low shook  his  head  decisively.  "  Certainly  not. 
I  may  be  a  fool  but  I'm  a  gentleman." 

But  Morris  did  not  lose  his  air  of  superior 
wisdom. 

"  Something  must  be  done,"  he  said.  "  You 
must  do  something  with  Marion.  How  will  she 
take  it?  " 

Stanton  showed  his  palms. 

"  You  never  can  tell  how  Marion  will  take 
anything.  She's  as  proud  as  a  peacock  and  as 
game  as  a  pebble." 

"  She'd  never  show  it  if  she  were  hurt,"  as- 
sented Mr.  Morris. 

"  We've  simply  been  drifting  till  now,"  con- 
fided Stanton. 

"  With  no  distinct  break,"  asked  the  attorney. 

"  Drifting,  you  know, —  a  row  and  then 
quiet." 

"  Then  who  is  this  —  this  — " 

"  She  is  a  lady,  Ned,"  said  the  young  mil- 
lionaire quickly  and  firmly.  "  And,"  he  nodded 


40  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

his  head,  "  as  she  is  likely  to  become  a  close 
relative  of  yours  —  you  had  better  treat  her 
with  respect.  For  the  present  all  you  need 
know  is  that  the  accident  did  occur  and  she  is 
a  lady." 

The  lawyer  got  up.     He  sneered  openly. 

"What?"  he  demanded. 

"  Don't  you  suppose  I  am  going  to  protect 
the  reputation  of  my  future  wife?  "  Stanton 
retorted  grandiloquently.  "  A  lady  can  ride  in 
an  automobile  you  know." 

"  See  here  Howard  —  are  you  crazy  or  am 
I?" 

Morris  clasped  his  hands  behind  his  back  and 
looked  searchingly  at  his  brother-in-law.  His 
own  opinion  in  the  matter  was  thus  plainly  con- 
veyed. 

"  I'll  match  you,"  was  the  younger  man's 
tart  rejoinder. 

The  grave  Wilson,  salver  in  hand,  now  stood 
in  the  doorway. 

"  A  note  for  Mr.  Morris,  sir  —  marked 
urgent,  sir  —  delivered  by  messenger." 

Presently  the  lawyer  looked  up  from  the  let- 
ter. 


MR.  MORRIS  TAKES  CHARGE   41 

"  From  those  men  outside,"  he  said.  "  Want 
a  statement  — 

"  Well,  I'm  getting  good  and  tired  of  this," 
cried  Stanton.  "  Wilson,  tell  'em  all  to  go  to 
hell!" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

But  Morris  raised  his  plump  and  heavy  hand. 
He  lowered  his  head  and  in  his  most  grave  man- 
ner, advised: 

"  No  —  no.  Wait  a  minute.  I  have  an 
idea."  He  stepped  slowly  over  toward  the  but- 
ler. "  Wilson  tell  them  if  they  will  go  away  I 
will  give  them  a  statement  later." 

The  butler  looked  toward  his  youthful  em- 
ployer. He  received  a  nod  of  acquiescence. 

"  Well,  now  what,  Ned?  "  said  Stanton  with- 
out show  of  confidence. 

"  Let  me  think,"  ruminated  the  lawyer.  "  Oh 
—  I  have  an  idea  —  an  emphatic  denial  —  with 
a  gentle  threat  of  libel." 

"  Cut  out  the  «  gentle.'  " 

"  Trust  me." 

The  butler  reappeared. 

"Yes,  Wilson?"  questioned  Stanton. 

"  Beg   pardon,   sir,   but   the   newspaper-men 


42  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

said  they  are  waiting  for  Mrs.  Stanton  to  leave 
your  house  for  her  father's  and  they  hoped  she 
would  go  soon,  if  convenient,  for  they  had  an- 
other edition  in  forty  minutes." 

Stanton's  nonchalance  evaporated. 

"  Such  impertinence  is  beyond  bearing !  This 
whole  country  is  being  governed  by  a  lot  of 
irresponsibles,  hiding  behind  the  public  opinion 
they  make  by  lying  to  and  fooling  the  people 
through  the  papers.  I  won't  stand  itl  What 
business  have  they  to  pry  into,  my  personal 
affairs?  I  won't  stand  it,  I  tell  you!  Which 
one  sent  that  message,  Wilson?  "  The  husband 
started  toward  the  door.  "  I'll  thrash  him !  " 

Once  more  Morris'  fat  hand  of  council  was 
put  forth. 

"  Yes ;  and  have  the  rest  of  them  take  pic- 
tures while  you  do  it.  And  then  be  hauled  to 
a  police  court  and  fined  by  a  Magistrate  who  is 
afraid  of  them."  Morris'  fat  hand  patted 
Stanton's  shoulder. 

"  Now  —  now,  Howard,  be  calm,"  he  said. 
"  Leave  it  to  me." 

"  But  I  tell  you  — "  stormed  the  younger 
man. 


MR.  MORRIS  TAKES  CHARGE       43 

"  I  am  your  lawyer,"  rejoined  Morris  im- 
pressively. 

"  Very  well,  all  right."  The  young  man's 
clenched  hands  relaxed. 

Slowly  the  other  pointed  to  a  doorway  lead- 
ing to  a  music  room. 

"  You  go  in  there,  and,  Wilson,  say  to  the 
newspapermen  that  Mr.  Morris  will  see  one  —  to 
represent  them  all." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Make  it  strong,  Ned,'  urged  Stanton  be- 
fore disappearing  into  the  other  room. 

All  Morris'  four-ply  dignity  had  now  settled 
upon  him. 

"  Howard,"  said  he,  "  you  wait  in  there  and 
leave  the  matter  to  me." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE      FORGOTTEN     GLOVES 

IN  response  to  the  message  that  the  planning 
Mr.  Morris  sent  out  by  Wilson  to  the  news- 
paper reporters,  the  butler  ushered  into  the  room 
the  slender,  curly-haired,  gray-eyed  reporter 
who,  earlier  in  the  morning,  had  recounted  his 
recollection  of  the  wedding  of  Marion  Living- 
ston to  Howard  Stanton.  The  young  man  was 
altogether  at  ease  —  as  professional  in  his  man- 
ner  as  a  physician  might  have  been  in  answer- 
ing a  summons.  Yet  he  was  neither  brusque  nor 
assertive.  His  intelligent  eye  plainly  made  a 
rapid  mental  picture  of  the  room  —  a  quick  ap- 
praisement for  descriptive  purposes,  later.  His 
equally  quick  appraisement  in  a  glance  of  the 
person  of  Mr.  Morris  might  have  been  deli- 
cately cynical  but  his  nod  was  agreeable  and 
his  smile  tactful. 

"  Mr.    Lynch "    announced    Wilson    curtly. 
The  legal  representative  of  the  Stanton  family 
44 


THE  FORGOTTEN  GLOVES        45 

sought  unsuccessfully  not  to  show  how  fully  he 
realized  the  consideration  he  was  bestowing  on 
this  young  man  —  general  agent,  of  the  in- 
vaders without. 

"  I  am  Mr.  Morris,  Mr.  Stanton's  attorney," 
he  said. 

"  Oh,  I  recognize  you,  Mr.  Morris,"  said  the 
reporter,  "  we  know  most  of  the  big  lawyers, 
you  know,"  he  finished,  smiling  pleasantly. 

And  Mr.  Morris  was  betrayed  into  smiling 
quite  as  pleasantly  in  return.  He  experienced 
a  gentle  glow  and  said; 

"  Ah  —  won't  you  sit  down,  Mr.  Lynch  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  young  man  and 
walked  to  a  chair  near  the  library  table. 

"  From  the  Journal  or  World?  " 

Mr.  Lynch  smiled  again. 

"Neither,"  he  said.  "They  wouldn't  trust 
each  other." 

"  Oh,"  Mr.  Morris  looked  almost  amiable. 
"  From  the  Post?  " 

Mr.  Lynch's  smiled  lingered. 

"  Wrong  again,  Mr.  Morris.  This  story 
only  broke  last  night.  The  Post  probably 
hasn't  heard  of  it  yet.  I'm  from  the  City  News. 


46  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

That  is  an  organization  that  serves  all  the  news- 
papers." 

The  planning  Mr.  Morris  had  evidently  de- 
termined that  the  captivation  of  Mr.  Lynch's 
favor  was  highly  desirable.  His  manner  was 
even  genial  as  he  laid  back  and  smiled  broadly 
and  with  an  out-stretched  hand,  exclaimed: 

"  Well,  then  —  Mr.  Lynch,  or  the  City  News 
—  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  Why  —  you  know  the  story,  Mr.  Morris. 
Is  it  true?  " 

"  I  know  certain  facts,  Mr.  Lynch,"  came 
the  guarded  reply.  "  I  must  confess,"  he  went 
on  in  lighter  tone,  "  that  I  do  not  k.eep  abreast 
of  the  romances  in  our  yellow  journals.  When 
I  undertake  fiction,  I  choose  a  more  enduring 
kind." 

"  The  story  is,"  replied  Lynch  quickly,  "  that 
a  wrecked  automobile  was  found  in  a  ditch  be- 
side the  road  just  outside  of  New  Haven,  Con- 
necticut. When  the  car  passed  through  New 
Haven  it  had  in  it  a  young  man  who  answers 
the  description  of  Mr.  Stanton  and  —  a  young 
woman  who  does  not  answer  the  description  of 
Mrs.  Stanton.  They  were  found  with  the 
wrecked  car,  unconscious,  and  carried  away  by 


THE  FORGOTTEN  GLOVES        47 

persons  in  another  automobile.  It  is  rumored 
that  the  woman  is  desperately  injured  and  the 
man  fatally  hurt.  The  car  belonged  to  Mr. 
Howard  Stanton  and  Dr.  Ball  was  here  at  the 
house  at  a  very  early  hour  this  morning  —  and 
a  young  woman  who  does  answer  the  descrip- 
tion of  Mrs.  Stanton  arrived  —  in  great  haste, 
last  night  at  this  house." 

The  tips  of  Mr.  Morris'  fingers  met  one  an- 
other. 

"  I  cannot  say  really,  Mr.  Lynch,  whether  the 
story  is  true  or  not." 

"  You  do  not  care  to  make  a  statement  ?  " 

"  Oh  —  yes ;  I'll  make  a  statement,"  declared 
Mr.  Morris. 

"Well?"  asked  the  reporter  quickly,  unwill- 
ing to  allow  his  quarry  the  defense  of  deliber- 
ativeness. 

"  This  car  of  which  you  speak  may  or  may 
not  have  been  Mr.  Stanton's,"  said  the  lawyer, 
evenly.  "  I  cannot  say.  The  man  in  the  car, 
however,  was  certainly  not  Mr.  Stanton.  And 
the  woman  was  certainly  not  Mrs.  Stanton.  I 
wish,"  declared  Mr.  Morris,  "  to  say  that  posi- 
tively." 

"  Oh  —  we  were  quite  sure  it  was  not  Mrs. 


48  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

Stanton,"  commented  young  Mr.  Lynch  leaning 
backward  in  his  chair  and  placing  his  gloves 
nonchalantly  on  the  big  table  at  his  hand.  He 
smiled.  "  Wouldn't  have  been  much  of  a 
'  story  '  if  it  had  been." 

Mr.  Morris  resented  the  comment. 

"  Is  there  anything  else,  Mr.  Lynch  ?  "  he 
asked  sharply. 

"Well  — yes.     Where  is  Mr.  Stanton?" 

Mr.  Morris  was  guilty  of  an  involuntary 
glance  at  the  music  room  doorway. 

"  Um  — "  he  said,  "  he  left  two  days  ago  for 
a  trip  to  North  Carolina.  I  have  wired  him 
and  expect  to  be  in  communication  with  him 
shortly,"  he  continued  more  easily.  "  When  he 
returns  I  am  sure  he  will  instruct  me  to  take 
decisive  action  with  regard  to  these  shameful 
and  libelous  innuendoes." 

The  lawyer  paused  impressively.  Mr.  Lynch 
showed  no  alarm. 

"  And  Mrs.  Stanton?  "  he  asked  promptly. 

"  She  is  here,  and,"  Mr.  Morris  took  the 
plunge  deftly,  "  I  am  making  this  statement  at 
her  earnest  solicitation  in  order  —  to  — er,  in 
order  to  put  an  end  to  this  annoyance." 

"  Then  there  is  not  to  be  a  divorce?  " 


THE  FORGOTTEN  GLOVES        49 

Mr.  Morris'  reply  indicated  enormous  amaze- 
ment. 

"  Divorce? "  Commiseration  battled  with 
sarcasm  as  he  went  on :  "  Mr.  Lynch,  if  the 
papers  were  more  conversant  with  the  lives  of 
the  people  about  whom  they  busy  themselves  im- 
pertinently and  unnecessarily,  the  stupidity  of 
such  a  question  would  be  obvious.  I  think,  Mr. 
Lynch,  that  that  is  all." 

The  reporter  got  up. 

"  Thank  you  very  much  for  your  statement, 
Mr.  Morris."  He  was  almost  at  the  door  when 
he  turned.  "  But  will  you  tell  me  who  was  in 
Mr.  Stanton's  automobile?  " 

The  lawyer  shrugged  his  shoulders.  He  pur- 
posely raised  his  voice  so  that  no  word  was  lost 
to  the  hidden  son  of  wealth. 

"  Some  irresponsible  chauffeur  on  a  joy  ride, 
I  suppose  —  er  —  with  his  sweetheart,  I  sup- 
pose —  a  manicure  or  milliner,  probably." 

Lynch  bowed  slightly. 

"  Forgive  one  more  question.  Dr.  Ball's 
visit?  " 

"  He  came  to  see  Mrs.  Stanton." 

"  I  believe  that  covers  everything,"  observed 
Mr.  Lynch  with  an  air  of  finality. 


50  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  the  lawyer  condescend- 
ingly. 

"  Good-day,  sir." 

"  Good-day,  Mr.  Lynch." 

Mr.  Lynch  was  almost  out  of  the  door  when 
Mr.  Morris  coughed.  It  was  a  cough  that 
spoke.  It  meant  something.  And  Mr.  Lynch 
read  its  inarticulated  message.  He  turned,  bit 
the  smile  off  his  lips,  and  looked  back  ques- 
tioningly. 

"  Mr.  Edward  Rowland  Morris,"  said  the  law- 
yer distinctly. 

"  Oh,  I  have  it  correctly,"  said  the  reporter. 
"  Good-day." 

Hardly  had  he  passed  outside  the  room  than 
Stanton  strode  into  it. 

"  What  the  devil  do  you  mean  by  calling  me 
a  drunken  chauffeur,"  he  demanded  of  his 
brother-in-law,  effectively  displacing  that  gen- 
tleman's air  of  self-complacence. 

"  What  would  you  have  me  tell  him  ?  "  came 
the  angry  retort.  "  The  truth?  I  will  if  you 
wish."  As  though  he  fully  meant  to  do  so,  he 
started  in  the  direction  of  the  hallway. 

He  fell  back  in  dismay  as  he  found  himself 


THE  FORGOTTEN  GLOVES        51 

confronted  by  Mr.  Lynch,  the  reporter,  whose 
gray  eyes  were  dancing  with  amusement. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  drawled  Mr.  Lynch, 
"  but  I  forgot  my  gloves."  Morris  made  a  flur- 
ried movement  back  into  the  room.  "  Don't 
worry,  I  see  them."  Taking  up  the  gloves  on 
the  table  where  he  had  left  them,  the  newspaper 
man  apologized  further.  "  Awfully  awkward," 
he  said,  "  but  you  know  I  frequently  forget  my 
gloves  when  I  interview  people."  For  an  in- 
stant, it  appeared  to  both  of  the  startled  men 
as  if  he  meant  promptly  to  leave  the  room  again. 
But  he  stopped,  standing  between  them.  He 
looked  toward  the  lawyer. 

"Mr.  Edward  Rowland  Morris  —  isn't  it?" 

"  Yes,"  said  that  gentleman,  rubbing  the 
plump  fingers  of  one  hand  along  the  palm  of  it 
in  his  embarrassment. 

"  I  wanted,"  said  Mr.  Lynch  affably,  "  to 
give  you  full  credit  for  your  frank  statement 
and  —  when  a  name  is  not  well  known  —  I  am 
always  particularly  careful  to  get  it  right." 

As  Mr.  Morris  winced,  the  young  man  of  the 
City  News  gave  his  attention  in  another  direc- 
tion. 


52  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Would  you  care  to  discuss  motoring  —  in 
North  Carolina  —  Mr.  Stanton  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care  to  discuss  anything,"  said  Stan- 
ton.  He  had  almost  been  caught  laughing  — 
the  joke  on  the  astute  Morris  was  such  a  rich 


one. 
« 


Will  you  say  who  was  the  lady  with  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  shouted  Stanton,  angrily. 

"  Will  you  affirm  or  deny  that  Mrs.  Stanton 
is  about  to  file  suit  for  divorce." 

"  Such  a  question  is  too  impertinent." 

"  May  I  see  Mrs.  Stanton  ?  "  continued  Lynch 
regardlessly. 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  I,"  interposed  Morris  hoarsely,  "  gave  you 
a  statement  from  Mrs.  Stanton." 

"  Mrs.  Stanton  is  not  here  at  present,"  sup- 
plemented the  young  husband  forcibly. 

But  as  the  words  left  his  lips,  he  grimaced 
and  flung  up  his  arm  in  a  gesture  of  helplessness 
and  hopelessness  because  of  what  he  saw.  It 
was  nothing  other  than  the  pretty  face  and 
slender  form  of  his  young  wife.  Her  big  gray 
eyes  were  fixed  almost  humorously  and  yet  griev- 
ously, too,  upon  him,  as  she  walked  lightly  into 
the  room. 


CHAPTER  V 

MARION   STANTON 

GRANTING  young  Mr.  Lynch  of  the  City 
News  the  possession  of  acute,  trained 
powers  of  observation  and  deduction  and  the 
rapid  study  of  the  library  of  the  Stanton  home 
that  he  made  on  his  first  entrance,  must  have 
told  him  much  of  the  inner  lives  of  the  wealthy 
young  couple,  must  have  hinted  strongly  at  the 
causes  for  the  crisis  that  had  come,  squirming 
like  an  ugly,  vicious  snake  across  their  path  of 
roses. 

While  containing  no  jarring  vulgarities  of 
decoration  or  ornamentation,  the  furnishings  of 
the  library,  the  mutual  room  of  the  young  man 
and  woman,  was  nevertheless  in  itself  an  open 
book  of  contrasting  mental  inclinations ;  an  ap- 
parent conflict  of  tastes  between  the  owners  of 
the  apartment.  The  heavy  dull  red  curtains  of 
the  window  and  the  brocaded  portieres  of  the 
same  material  joining  in  a  color  scheme  with  the 
53 


54s  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

black  of  the  woodwork,  was  general  in  the  room. 
But  the  low  book  shelves  along  the  walls  with  the 
olive  green  or  pale  gray  bindings  of  the  vol- 
umes, the  flowers  in  slender  vases  along  the  tops, 
the  ornaments  of  jade  and  of  ivory,  the  delicate 
ceramics  displayed  bespoke  estheticism,  softness, 
culture  and  even  suggested  mysticism.  Sharply 
against  the  slender,  fantastic  orientalism  of  the 
flower-bearing  vases,  stood  on  an  ebony  ped- 
estal a  Greek  discus  thrower  in  white  marble  and 
the  paintings  on  the  walls,  were  those  of  action 
—  battle  scenes,  coaching  scenes  in  bold  and 
brilliant  golden  frames.  But  again  the  vigor  of 
these  features  was  toned  almost  to  nullification 
by  the  low  divans  with  their  Persian  silk  cover- 
ings, and  the  dark  thick  leather  chairs,  all  de- 
signed for  postures  of  graceful  reclining. 

Significantly  this  deduction  would  have  left  a 
final  impression  that  as  between  the  conflict  of 
minds  in  the  setting  up  of  this  room  the  gentler, 
more  intellectual  force  had  pervaded  over  the 
mind  that  saw  the  glory  in  battle,  the  harsh  fun 
of  sports  and  the  fascination  of  the  hunt. 

When  Stanton  had  said  wistfully,  "  if  there 
had  been  a  house  in  the  country  and  a  couple 
of  kids,"  he  had,  without  analysis,  sentimentally 


MARION  STANTON  55 

but  accurately  explained  why  shortly  after  his 
marriage  to  charming  Marion  Stanton,  Cupid 
had  begun  to  languish  in  their  wake. 

The  love  affair  itself  had  been  so  pretty  in  its 
incidents  that  even  Society  (as  they  are  collec- 
tively termed  who  inhabit  the  opera  boxes  and 
Newport,  traverse  Europe  and  otherwise  try  to 
remain  interested  in  life)  lifted  its  pale,  jaded, 
j  eweled  hands  to  applaud  the  events  —  the  good, 
old-fashioned  elopement  in  the  face  of  parental 
storms,  effected  by  the  modern  medium  of  an 
automobile.  And  as  an  added  attraction,  were 
the  good  looks  and  wholesomeness  of  both  of 
them  —  the  slenderness,  grace  and  wit  of  the 
gray-eyed  girl;  the  stalwart,  good-humored 
healthiness  of  the  youthful,  handsome  athlete. 

There  was  some  slight  shock  of  revulsion  felt 
among  the  old  families  in  Gramercy  and  Wash- 
ington Square;  felt  in  the  coteries  of  seasoned 
American  aristocracy  in  which  Marion  Livings- 
ton had  been  born.  Old  General  Livingston 
had  frowned  hard.  But  after  all,  the  General 
was  no  curmudgeon.  His  irascibility  faded  into 
resignation  in  a  reasonably  short  time.  And 
more  practical  minds  among  the  families  de  luxe 
were  soon  willing  to  concede  that  it  was  no 


56  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

bad  thing  —  an  infusion  of  the  Stanton  wealth 
into  the  old  circle  whose  houses  some  of  them 
showed  faded  fronts  and  whose  equipages  con- 
tinued to  be  the  broughams  and  coupes  of  a 
former  generation,  not  so  much  because  of  un- 
due prejudice  against  fine  big  motor  cars  as  in 
reality  it  was  the  impossibility  of  straightened 
incomes  to  meet  the  new  feature  of  expense. 
Not  all  the  incomes  were  straightened  either,  but 
what  had  been  large  wealth  of  a  former  gener- 
ation, had  become  in  an  epoch  of  enormous  for- 
tunes, not  much  more  than  sufficient  to  rank 
their  possessors  as  fairly  well-to-do.  And  how- 
ever the  scathing  designation  of  nouveau  riche 
might  be  applied  to  the  Stanton  family  with 
their  mines  in  the  West  and  mansions  in  Fifth 
Avenue  and  Newport  (held  merely  on  lease) 
Howard  Stanton,  personally,  was  capable  of 
utterly  disarming  prejudice.  He  wore  his  fath- 
er's wealth  for  all  the  world  as  if  it  were  an 
old  coat  and  save  for  the  flamboyancy  of  cer- 
tain of  his  escapades,  easily  stepped  side  by  side 
with  the  traditionally  accepted  gentlemen  of 
the  city. 

Original  obstructions  to  the  happiness  of  the 
young  Stantons  had  all,  therefore,  disappeared 


MARION  STANTON  57 

within  a  month  after  they  had  walked  out  of 
the  little  Poughkeepsie  Chapel  near  Vassar,  with 
the  object  of  their  elopement  accomplished. 
The  start  was  fair.  Cupid  may  be  pictured  as 
having  beamed  with  great  satisfaction  at  this 
particular  bit  of  work. 

A  thing  unforeseen  in  a  romance  of  haste  and 
ardor  developed  very  shortly  after  old  General 
Livingston's  influence  and  the  Stanton  money 
had  secured  for  Howard  and  Marion,  the  pos- 
session of  their  mansion  in  Fifth  Avenue,  mid- 
way between  the  decadent  social  centre  that  had 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  commerce  and  the  ag- 
gressive and  bustling  turrets  and  porticos  of 
the  pretentious  residences  of  the  Pittsburgh 
ironmasters  and  the  California  and  Nevada  dig- 
gers of  silver  and  gold. 

It  became  soon  apparent  that  Howard  would 
rather  hear  the  crack  of  his  whip  above  a  four- 
in-hand  than  the  high  note  of  the  greatest 
singer  that  ever  lived ;  that  the  report  of  a  gun 
in  the  woodlands  had  greater  thrill  for  him 
than  the  noblest  tragedy  man  had  ever  written 
or  could  write ;  that  all  the  lilts  of  Tennyson  or 
Byron  were  not  so  sweet  to  him  as  the  singing 
of  the  reel  on  his  trout  rod  and  the  serious 


58  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

aspects  of  life,  the  trend  of  the  world  in  its 
progress  meant  nothing  to  him  beyond  its  hav- 
ing supplied  the  automobile  in  which  he  could 
dart  madly  and  dizzily  over  broad  spaces. 
Cults,  theories  of  life;  broad  aspirations  he  had 
none;  wanted  none  and  in  the  enlarged  egotism 
that  his  wealth  gave  his  youth  he  would  frankly 
have  told  you  that  about  them  all  he  did  not 
care  "  a  damn." 

And  yet  the  other  way  was  his  wife's  way. 
Keen  and  clever,  her  Vassar  studies  had  meant 
much  to  her.  While  at  Yale,  Stanton  had  only 
been  concerned  at  "  making  "  the  football  team, 
the  crew  and  the  "  sportiest "  of  the  "  f  rats." 
She  had  planned  much  that  she  would  do  by 
way  of  intellectual  development  for  them  both ; 
she  had  conceived  pretty  schemes  of  charity,  in- 
genious forms  of  social  entertainments. 

Quite  unwittingly  they  had  suddenly  found 
themselves  apart  in  their  pursuits  and  the  worst 
of  it  was,  it  became  patently  impossible  for 
them  to  retrace  to  the  starting  point  for  a 
fresh  beginning.  Perhaps  Marion  uninten- 
tionally wore  a  little  mask  of  amused  scorn  that 
had  turned  the  big  fellow  back  whenever  he  had 
thought  to  reach  out  to  her  so  that,  thereafter 


MARION  STANTON  59 

they  might  walk  side  by  side.  Perhaps  he 
never  caught  the  light  of  pleading  that  some- 
times flashed  into  her  eyes,  bespeaking  the  un- 
uttered  call  from  the  inner  Marion. 

If  then,  the  musical  and  literary  set,  the 
charitable  organizations,  the  booksellers,  the 
art  dealers  came  to  know  Marion;  the  athletic 
fields,  the  race  tracks,  the  card-playing  clubs, 
the  automobile  roads  and  their  halfway  houses ; 
the  musical  comedies  and  the  Broadway  res- 
taurants had  Howard  for  a  familiar  figure. 
Necessarily,  the  finer  fibres  of  his  nature  warped 
and  shriveled  as,  under  this  life,  he  took  on  a 
frivolous  cock-tail  cynicism ;  and  had  Marion 
followed  him  with  jealous  suspicion  instead  of 
regretful,  sorry  eyes,  there  had  been  certain  ad- 
ventures of  his  that  might  easily  in  the  year  just 
gone  have  led  to  a  crisis  as  serious  as  the  one 
imperatively  brought  home  by  the  already  no- 
torious adventure  of  the  wrecked  automobile. 

Despite,  however,  the  half-unconscious 
estrangement  into  which,  as  young  Stanton  had 
told  Morris,  they  had  '  drifted,'  yet  both 
curiously  but  with  equal  certainty  felt  that 
deeper  than  all  things  they  were  meant  for 
each  other.  Men  and  women  all  have  felt 


60  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

toward  one  another  this  mystic  but  potent  as- 
signment of  individuals  to  each  other  that 
Nature  makes.  The  perfect  physical  mating 
of  big  Stanton  in  his  perfect  type  of  young 
manhood  and  Marion  with  her  prettiness,  gen- 
tleness and  soft  slenderness,  as  perfect  in  her 
type  of  femininity,  was  plain  to  the  most  un- 
observant eye.  And  at  odd  moments,  they  felt 
this  themselves,  even  after  the  breakfast  table 
chat  became  desultory  and  the  dinner  courtesies 
of  conversation  little  more  than  formal.  In 
marrying,  they  had  been  obedient  to  Nature  in 
her  effort  to  do  her  work  well.  It  was  civiliza- 
tion that  had  led  them  along  separate  paths  — 
the  artificial  directions  they  got  from  modern 
life  which  were  defeating  natural  design. 

Stanton's  dismay  as  he  beheld  his  wife  enter 
the  library  was  not  only  because  her  action 
brought  her  face  to  face  with  Lynch  of  the  City 
News,  who  stood  as  a  sort  of  harbinger  of  the 
hue  and  cry  of  harsh  gossip  that  seemed  doomed 
soon  to  sound  ruinously  all  round  them.  He 
was  fearfully  wondering  what  her  attitude 
would  be?  What  would  she  do ?  They  had  not 
talked  the  matter  over  as  yet.  He  knew  only 
that  he  had  brought  humiliation  and  shame  to 


MARION  STANTON  61 

her  and  his  remorse  sought  for  no  excuse;  had 
none  possible  to  offer.  If  he  got  what  he  de- 
served, he  had  long  since  inwardly  admitted,  he 
must  lose  her;  must  step  out  of  her  way;  must 
seek  no  defense,  indeed,  had  no  defense  of  the 
charge  of  having  besmirched  their  sweet  ro- 
mance with  vulgar  poltroonery. 

Of  one  thing  —  he  felt  certain  —  she  would 
make  no  great  emotional  display.  However, 
her  heart  ached,  there  were  the  large,  humorous 
gray  eyes,  the  sweet  whimsical  yet  characterful 
mouth  to  guide  her  otherwise  than  into  any  out- 
burst of  hysteria. 

But  what  would  she  do? 

Bring  the  matter  to  a  swift  and  certain  end 
by  calmly  denouncing  him  before  his  very  face 
to  Lynch? 

He  understood  her  well  enough  to  under- 
stand that  underlying  her  kindly  humorous  eyes 
was  a  light  of  steel,  companion  to  a  will  of  her 
own.  He  could  not  recall  any  episode  in  which 
she  had  ever  decisively  displayed  it.  But,  of 
the  few  subtle  things  that  he  had  known,  was 
the  realization  that  this  will  was  there.  At 
that  very  moment,  he  experienced  stronger  than 
ever  the  desire  to  stride  forward  and  engulf  her 


62  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

in  his  arms ;  then  to  wave  Morris  and  the  re- 
porter imperatively  away  and  make  the  library 
the  sacred  scene  of  a  humble  confession  and  plea 
for  reinstatement. 

Of  course,  he  did  no  such  thing.  Like  the 
other  men,  he  simply  stood  staring. 

She  halted  for  a  period  almost  imperceptible, 
turning  her  gaze  finally  toward  Morris  and  go- 
ing toward  him  with  both  hands  extended.  He 
took  them  mechanically. 

"  Why,  Ned ! "  said  she,  "  when  did  you  get 
back?  You've  been  neglecting  me.  I  have 
not  seen  you  for  an  age." 

"  Been  busy,  Marion,"  said  Morris  perfunc- 
torily. 

And  now  her  glance  turned  toward  Lynch. 
He  looked  at  her.  No  introduction  forthcom- 
ing, there  was  an  awkward  pause. 

The  reporter  broke  it. 

"  Mrs.  Stanton,  I  am  Mr.  Lynch  of  the  City 
News." 

Stanton  took  a  step  forward.  His  jaw  was 
set. 

"  Mrs.  Stanton  has  nothing  to  say,  Mr. 
Lynch,"  he  said. 

She  glanced  at  her  husband  gravely. 


MARION  STANTON  63 

"  Perhaps  I  have,  Howard,"  she  interjected. 
"  What  is  it,  Mr.  Lynch?  " 

"  We  have  a  story  of  a  divorce  suit  con- 
templated by  you." 

Mr.  Lynch  spoke  gently  now,  without  aggres- 
siveness of  inquiry. 

Mrs.  Stanton  showed  all  her  little  white  teeth 
in  laughter.  Morris  and  Stanton  glanced  at 
each  other  wonderingly.  Young  Mr.  Lynch's 
eyes  expressed  also  a  degree  of  astonishment. 

"Divorce  —  I?"  She  held  her  head  on  a 
side  and  turned  her  eyes  toward  Stanton. 
"  Did  you  hear  that,  Howard?  " 

She  looked  back  at  the  reporter. 

"  I  think,"  she  cried  seriously,  "  the  fact  that 
I  am  here  in  Mr.  Stanton's  house  is  sufficient 
answer  to  such  a  silly  story." 

Stanton  moved  nearer  to  her. 

"  Have  you  heard  the  story  of  Mr.  Stanton's 
accident  ?  "  persisted  the  reporter. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  she  replied.  "  And  how  we 
have  laughed  over  it.  Haven't  we,  Howard?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  her  husband,  though  his  grin  was 
stiff.  "  I  should  say  we  had." 

"  Most  amusing,"  spoke  Morris  in  obligato. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Marion  lightly,  "  that  it 


64,  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

is  so  unusual  in  these  days  for  a  man  to  go 
motoring  with  his  own  wife  that  papers  natu- 
rally jump  to  the  conclusion  that  it  must  be 
another  woman."  She  put  her  handkerchief 
to  her  lips.  "  Its  really  too  amusing,"  she 
laughed. 

"  Then  you  were  the  lady  in  the  car?  " 

"  Of  course,  I  was." 

Mr.  Lynch  looked  at  the  young  matron  with 
eyes  that  were  not  unkindly,  but  his  voice  had 
a  tinge  of  the  severe  as  he  said; 

"  Then  allow  me  to  congratulate  you,  Mrs. 
Stanton  on  your  splendid  recovery  —  the  lady 
in  the  car  broke  her  leg  —  good-day." 

Mr.  Lynch  was  gone. 

Mr.  Morris  coughed.  He  looked  from  one 
to  the  other  and  then,  with  his  best  air  of  good- 
breeding  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER  VI 

AN     UNIQUE     CONVERSATION 

YOUNG  Mrs.  Stanton  shuddered. 
"  Broke  her  leg,"  she  said  in  queer  tones. 
"  Broke  her  leg."  And  she  sought  a  chair  by 
the  big  library  table,  flung  her  arm  out  and 
rested  her  head  upon  it  and  her  shoulders  shook 
violently. 

He  followed  her  to  the  table  and  stood  non- 
plused. 

"  Don't  take  on  so,  Marion,"  he  urged.  But 
as  she  vouchsafed  no  notice  of  him,  he  went  on : 
"  She  really  didn't  break  her  leg.  He  was  only 
bluffing." 

Her  shoulders  continued  to  shake.  Earn- 
estly he  leaned  over  her. 

"  Come  —  come,  Marion,"  he  pleaded. 

She  looked  up.  Where  he  had  expected  to 
see  tears  he  beheld  her  countenance  brilliant 
with  amusement. 

65 


66  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Marion ! "  he  cried,  shocked.  "  You're 
laughing !  " 

And  indeed,  she  was  —  heartily. 

"Am  I?  I  believe  I  am,"  she  said.  "But 
you  see  I  haven't  the  honor  of  the  lady's  ac- 
quaintance." She  made  a  small  gesture  of 
apology  with  the  filmy  lace  handkerchief  in  her 
hand,  "  so  you  cannot  expect  me  to  be  so  very 
sympathetic." 

The  young  man  drew  away,  his  eyes  startled, 
his  expression  that  of  wonderment  at  the  ex- 
traordinary fashion  in  which  he  deemed  her  to 
be  acting.  His  mind  formed  only  a  conven- 
tional and  as  it  turned  out  rather  importune  re- 
monstrance. 

"  Marion,"  he  said,  "  I'm  ashamed  of  — " 

"  Most  self-respecting  men  would  be,  my 
dear,"  she  said  evenly. 

He  drew  further  away. 

"  I  don't  mean  —  O,  I  cannot  explain  — 
I—" 

"  Don't  apologize  for  her  coming  out  safely, 
Howard.  But  you  know  I  wouldn't  really  have 
minded  if  —  if"  and  little  Mrs.  Stanton  spoke 
with  intensity,  "  she  had  broken  her  neck." 


AN  UNIQUE  CONVERSATION      67 

"  That  is  not  a  womanly  speech,"  he  re- 
torted angrily. 

"  O,  yes,  it  is,"  she  answered  with  a  positive 
wag  of  the  head.  "  You  just  don't  know." 

Stanton  wheeled  and  walked  away  with  his 
back  toward  her.  Had  a  mirror  shown  him  the 
sudden  quick  gesture  of  her  hands  toward  him 
then,  the  glow  of  tenderness  that  her  eyes  took 
on,  he  would  surely  have  turned  with  a  realiza- 
tion that  her  strange  gaiety  was  only  acting; 
that  beneath  all  perhaps  she  longed  most  to  have 
her  arms  around  his  neck.  But  there  was  no 
friendly  mirror. 

"  I  might  have  known  that  that  is  how  you 
would  take  it,"  he  said  bitterly.  "  Ever  since 
you  went  in  for  this  society  thing  all  you  can 
do  is  to  laugh  and  sneer  at  everything." 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  take  the  situation  ser- 
iously ?  "  she  asked  quickly. 

"  Isn't  it  serious  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  I  should  hate  to  be  forced  to  take  it  so," 
she  answered  studying  the  rug  at  her  feet. 

"  Well  —  well  —  I  might  have  been  killed." 
expostulated  Stanton. 

She  had  regained  her  gay  poise. 


68  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Oh,  Howard,"  she  laughed,  "  you  couldn't 
have  done  anything  so  ungentlemanly." 
"  Ungentlemanly  ?  " 
"  Yes,"   she  continued  smoothly,   "  the   lady 

—  might    have    a    husband    or    a    father  —  or 
children  —  or  — "  she  broke  off  only  to  con- 
tinue contemptuously,  "  or  any  of  the  relations 
that  women  of  that  sort  usually  have.     Think 
how  you  might  have  compromised  her." 

Anger  held  Stanton  speechless  as  the  subtle 
goad  went  on  stinging.  She  got  up  and  walked 
over  to  him. 

"  Now,  my  dear  Howard,"  she  said  with  a 
gentle  hand  on  his  shoulder,  "  you  must  prom- 
ise that  if  you  insist  upon  getting  yourself  into 
these  absurd  scrapes,  you  won't  allow  yourself 
to  be  killed." 

"  Oh,  I'll  promise  you  that,"  he  grunted. 

"  Thank  you  dear." 

She  regarded  him  reflectively. 

"  One  thing  I've  always  liked  about  you  is 
that  you  are  naturally  so  obliging  in  little 
things.  Now  another  man  might  say  '  yes ' 

—  he  would  kill  himself  *  if  he  wanted  to  ' — 
but  you  are  not  that  way.     You  have  the  true 
idea  of  the  right  way  to  hold  a  woman  —  make 


AN  UNIQUE  CONVERSATION       69 

her  all  the  little  promises  —  you  wish  to  keep." 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said  in  something  of  her 
own  tone  now.  "  You  would  have  been  ser- 
iously annoyed  if  I  had  been  killed?  " 

"  O,  indeed,  I  should,  Howard,  dear.  Why, 
you  know  how  unbecoming  black  is  to  me.  And 
as  ours  was  a  —  a  love  match  —  I  should  have 
to  wear  it  for  the  limit." 

Stanton  said  nothing  for  a  time.  He  walked 
over  to  the  fire-place  and  looked  down  at  nothing 
in  particular. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  suppose  this  ends  it." 

"  What  ends  what?  "  she  asked,  but  there  was 
a  sudden  strain  in  her  voice  instead  of  the  flip- 
pancy which  she  intended. 

"  What  I've  been  doing  —  this  — "  he  was 
halted  for  a  word  that  might  not  describe  the 
situation  too  harshly. 

She  took  up  the  talk  sweetly. 

"  Disgracing  yourself  and  your  family  ?  " 

"  Disgracing ! "  he  cried  sharply.  He 
turned  quickly  on  the  word  and  when  he  did  so 
struck  his  bandaged  arm  on  the  back  of  a  chair. 
It  drew  out  of  him  an  exclamation  of  pain. 

Little  Marion  was  betrayed  by  it.  She  went 
toward  him  hurriedly. 


70  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  My  poor  boy,"  she  murmured  and  her  hands 
went  swiftly  to  the  sling  in  which  his  arm  hung. 
"  Does  it  hurt  much?  "  She  drew  him  over  to 
the  sofa.  "  You've  slipped  the  bandage,"  she 
went  on  with  unmistakable  tenderness. 

"  It  isn't  anything,"  he  said  sullenly,  boy- 
ishly. 

"  Does  it  hurt  much?  " 

"  A  little." 

She  worked  deftly  over  the  bandages. 

"  I  hope  it  was  thoroughly  cleaned,"  she 
said.  "  It  seems  terribly  swollen,"  and  again ; 
"Does  it  hurt  much?" 

"  Oh,  it  is  not  nearly  so  bad  as  the  last  motor 
smash-up." 

She  looked  up  at  him  suddenly. 

"  You  remember  that  last  time,  then  ?  " 

"  Sure,"  he  began.  "  It  was  — "  and  stopped. 

"  Our  honeymoon  in  the  Berkshires,"  she  sup- 
plied. There  was  a  silence.  They  smiled. 
"  How  absurd !  "  she  said. 

"  Do  you  remember  that  evening?  "  he  asked, 
his  eyes  resting  now  for  the  first  time  fairly 
upon  her. 

"  Yes." 

It  was  spoken  softly. 


"I    SUPPOSE,"  HE    SAID    IN    SOMETHING    OF    HER    OWN    TONE    NOW,    "YOU    WOULD 
HAVE   BEEN   SERIOUSLY  ANNOYED    IF   I    HAD   BEEN    KILLED"       Pagt  65 


AN  UNIQUE  CONVERSATION      71 

"  The  turn  in  the  road  just  below  at  the 
elbow  of  that  steep  hill,"  he  pursued. 

"  We  got  by  the  first  turn  safely,"  she  re- 
joined. "  Don't  you  remember?  It  was  the 
second  turn.  I'll  never  forget  it." 

She  half  closed  her  eyes,  as  if  making  an 
effort  to  recall  something. 

"  What  were  you  doing?  "  she  asked. 

"  Why,  Marion  —  er  —  well,  you  must  re- 
member that ! " 

"  It  is  very  indistinct." 

He  looked  at  her  keenly.     She  made  no  sign. 

"  You  know,"  he  said,  "  we  came  flying  down 
the  hill,  taking  the  turn  on  two  wheels,  and  the 
wind  in  our  faces  and  the  glory  of  the  evening 
sun  on  your  hair  and  —  we  were  laughing ; 
laughing  with  the  joy  of  being  alive,  being  to- 
gether, being  alone,  and  I  forgot  everything 
and  leaned  towards  you  and  — " 

She  affected  forgetfulness  no  further. 

"  And  then  that  falling  away  feeling,"  she 
said,  "  the  crash  and  the  darkness."  She 
stopped  and  tenderly  placed  her  hand  upon  his 
injured  arm.  "  I  just  remember  before  the 
crash  came,  your  throwing  your  arm  about 
me—" 


72  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  And  when  I  came  to  — "  he  interposed. 

"  I  came  to  first,  you  remember." 

"  So  you  did.  When  I  came  to  my  head  was 
in  your  lap  and  you  were  cuddling  me  and 
nursing  me." 

"  Of  course  I  was.  Why  you  saved  my  life. 
I  would  have  been  killed  if  you  had  not  jerked 
me  so  that  I  fell  on  you  and  broke  your  arm." 

"  That  was  the  first  time  you  ever  sat  on  me," 
he  suddenly  said  and  smiled. 

"  We  had  not  been  married  long  then,  you 
know,"  she  answered  explanatorily. 

But  he  shied  quickly  back  to  their  memory. 

"  And  afterwards  that  walk  of  two  miles  in 
the  moonlight  with  you  holding  my  broken 
arm." 

"  What  a  rough  place  it  was,"  she  com- 
mented. 

"  Gee !  —  you  were  good  to  me,"  he  said  with 
frank  enthusiasm. 

"  Absurd." 

He  wagged  his  head,  laughing  at  her. 

"  What  a  start  that  was  for  a  honeymoon  I 
A  big  smash-up  at  the  outset." 

"  That  wasn't  my  fault,"  she  returned. 
"  You  did  it." 


AN  UNIQUE  CONVERSATION       73 

"  Did  it  nothing,"  he  retorted  warmly.  "  If 
you  hadn't  looked  so  good  I  wouldn't  have 
leaned  toward  you." 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said  slowly  and  in  another 
tone,  "(^ou  have  the  leaning  habit]  in  automo- 
biles, Howard." 

"  Can  you  beat  it?  "  lie  demanded.  "  When- 
ever anything  important  happens  I  always  hurt 
my  arm.  The  honeymoon.  And  —  and  now 
divorce  even  — ". 

She  left  him  suddenly.  She  looked  at  his 
arm  from  afar. 

"  Is  it  all  right  now,"  she  said. 

But  he  followed  her. 

"  Marion,"  he  called  and  she  did  not  move 
away  from  him.  "  Marion,  I  wonder  why  we 
can't  get  on.  We  used  to  be  very  congenial,  I 
thought." 

"  No,  Howard,  you  pretended  to  like  what  I 
did." 

"  No,  indeed.  You  were  the  one  who  pre- 
tended. But  —  oh,  Marion  —  that  society 
game  I  never  could  stand  for." 

"  Poor  boy,"  she  said.     "  How  selfish  I  was." 

"You  selfish?     The  idea!     I—" 

She  protested,  the  tendrils  of  her  golden  hair 


74  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

loosening  about  her  temples  as  she  shook  her 
head. 

"  Oh,  but  I  was,  Howard.  I  should  have 
taken  more  interest  —  in  sport.  But  racing 
was  always  tiresome  to  me,"  she  admitted  hope- 
lessly, "  and  late  suppers  always  gave  me  a 
headache." 

"  No,  indeed.     I  was  a  brute." 

"  You  were  not,  Howard." 

"  Yes ;  I  was." 

"  No,  you  weren't.  Other  things  perhaps 
but  —  never  — " 

"  Confound  it ! "  cried  Stanton  heatedly. 
"  That's  the  way !  You  never  will  agree  with 
me  about  anything.  Let  me  be  a  brute  if  I 
want  to  be.  I'm  a  brute  and  I'm  going  to  be 
a  brute." 

She  looked  at  him  intently. 

"  Well,  then  perhaps  you  are." 

"  And  you'll  be  well  rid  of  me." 

He  walked  over  to  the  big  table.  He  fussed 
over  the  newspapers  with  his  uninjured  hand. 
He  looked  around  at  her. 

"  I  suppose  you'll  marry  again?  " 

"  Do  you  ?  "  she  said  impersonally. 

"  Whitney's  a  jolly  nice  fellow." 


AN  UNIQUE  CONVERSATION       75 

"  Now  look  here,  Howard,"  she  began  in- 
dignantly but  paused  and  then  laughed.  "  We 
are  still  married,  Howard  —  and  —  I  —  I  — 
haven't  asked  any  questions  about  your  future." 

"  O,"  he  said,  "  I  beg  pardon." 

"  Don't  mention  it." 

"  Marion,"  he  declared  suddenly.  "  I  am 
going  to  do  the  right  thing.  I  haven't  acted 
right  I  know.  I'll  do  everything  to  atone  by 
helping  you  rid  yourself  of  me."  He  hesitated, 
glanced  and  gulped,  flushed  and  finally  added: 

"  I'll  —  I'll  even  give  the  names." 

"  I  know  they  will  appreciate  that." 

"  Now  why  must  you  always  be  so  sarcastic  ?  " 

"  I  thought,"  she  said  incisively,  "  that  there 
was  only  one  woman  in  that  car." 

"  She  does  not  count,"  he  retorted  shortly. 

She  regarded  him  steadily. 

"  She  will  count  if  there  is  a  divorce  and 
it  will  be  tried  publicly!  '* 

"  Marion ! " 

"  Pray  why  should  we  make  an  exception  in 
her  case?  " 

"  She  is  a  lady,"  he  asserted  stoutly. 

He  was  stung  into  repetition  by  Marion's 
contemptuous  laughter. 


76  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  I  said  she  was  a  lady." 

"  Doubtless !  "  she  scoffed. 

"  I  tell  you  — "  began  Stanton. 

But  Marion  confronted  him  and  he  winced 
under  the  sweeping  vehemence  of  her  voice  as 
she  said: 

"  No  —  I  will  tell  you  something !  I've 
known  for  a  long  time  that  you  have  not  been 
acting  entirely  as  you  should.  But  it  has  not 
really  troubled  me  perhaps  as  much  as  it  should. 
But  I  have  never  done  one  of  these  women  the 
honor  to  be  jealous  of  her.  This  one  seems 
different.  You  say  she  belongs  to  your  station 
in  life  as  well  as  your  own  class  of  morals. 
Very  well.  If  there  is  a  divorce  it  will  be  tried 
publicly  and  she  shall  stand  with  you  —  dis- 
graced ! " 

"  Marion,"  Stanton  cried,  "  she  is  innocent !  " 

"  She  shall  prove  it,"  she  said  defiantly. 

They  stood  tensely  regarding  each  other. 

The  door  bell  rang  sharply. 

"  I  wonder  who  on  earth  that  is  ?  " 

"  Another  reporter,  probably." 

"  God  forbid,"  exclaimed  Stanton  fervently. 

And  it  wasn't. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A    NEW    INVASION 

STANTON  would  probably  not  so  earnestly 
have  prayed  that  it  should  not  be  another 
reporter  at  the  door-bell,  had  he  known  who  in 
reality  it  was  that  sought  entrance  to  his  home 
in  this  time  of  great  predicament. 

His  concern  had  been  and  still  was  so  directly 
with  Marion  and  how  she  was  going  to  face  the 
humiliating  episode  and  what  she  intended  to 
do ;  that  he  had  not  contemplated  the  tributary 
troubles  bound  to  come  in  the  wake  of  the  wide- 
spread publication  of  the  misadventure  of  the 
night. 

Had  his  mind  reverted  to  the  Livingston 
home  in  Gramercy  Park  or  to  the  leased  man- 
sion occupied  for  the  Spring  season  by  his 
mother  at  Tuxedo,  he  might  have  faintly  or 
even  vividly  pictured  the  sensation  that  the 
morning  newspapers  carried  to  both  places ;  and 
77 


78  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

the  ringing  of  the  door-bell  might  have  carried 
a  warning  of  what  was  to  follow. 

The  distressed  Wilson  merely  stood  aside  and 
allowed  two  ladies  to  enter.  He  failed  to  come 
ahead  to  make  the  least  announcement  and  so  it 
was  that  Howard  and  Marion  in  the  midst  of 
threshing  out  their  over-whelming  difficulty,  or, 
at  least,  seeking  to  thresh  it  out  —  found  them- 
selves confronting  Marion's  mother  and  the  pert 
and  energetic  Mrs.  Bob  Livingston,  wife  of 
Marion's  big  brother  and  aggressively,  since  her 
marriage,  a  champion  of  Livingston  pride  and 
traditions. 

Gentle,  sweet-faced  and  dignified,  the  senior 
Mrs.  Livingston  was  of  the  quaint  pretty  type 
of  the  clinging  woman  of  by-gone  days.  She 
had  always  unquestionably  accepted  the  domina- 
tion of  the  General,  long  before  he  wore  such 
an  awesome  title  ahead  of  his  name.  And  next 
to  the  General,  she  possessed  immense  admira- 
tion for  her  daughter,  Marion,  whose  gentle  as- 
serted independence  had  from  time  been  effec- 
tively shown  to  the  wondering  woman.  She  had 
been  willing  to  concede  that  Marion  had  in- 
herited much  of  the  General's  strength  of 
character.  And  Marion,  while  directing  her 


A  NEW  INVASION  79 

own  life  in,  for  instance,  so  important  an  affair 
as  her  marriage,  had  nevertheless  always  dis- 
played to  this  sweet-faced  mother  a  fine  tender- 
ness and  consideration  that  had  enhanced  the 
natural  tie  of  affection. 

So  palpably  was  Mrs.  Livingston  disturbed, 
so  plainly  on  the  verge  of  an  emotional  out- 
burst, that  Marion  hastened  to  call :  "  Hello, 
mother,  dear,"  just  as  cheerily  as  she  could. 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  Mrs.  Livingston  with 
something  dangerously  near  a  sob.  She  em- 
braced her  daughter  affectionately,  almost  con- 
vulsively. 

Pert  little  Mrs.  Bob  Livingston  was  mean- 
while in  her  quick,  bird-like  fashion,  submit- 
ting Marion's  husband  to  an  indignant  scru- 
tiny. 

"  Good  heavens !  "  said  Stanton  realizing  the 
portend  of  the  visit  and  vaguely  becoming  con- 
scious of  stress  ahead. 

"  Don't  you  see  Howard,  mother?  "  said  Ma- 
rion. 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Stanton,"  said  the 
matron  stiffly. 

"  Good-morning,"  he  replied  with  a  cordi- 
ality plainly  overdone. 


80  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Hello,  Salie,"  smiled  Marion.  "  I  was  just 
going  over  to  see  you.  Howard  and  I  have 
been  so  terribly  lonely." 

Mrs.  Bob  Livingston  who  out  of  an  expe- 
rience now  one  month  old,  regarded  herself  as 
peculiarly  fitted  to  inform  womankind  of 
methods  in  all  emergencies  for  making  hus- 
bands travel  kindly  and  up  to  form  in  their 
marital  harness,  looked  upon  her  sister-in-law 
with  commiseration. 

"Lonely  —  you  and  Howard?  You  seem  to 
have  plenty  of  friends  outside,"  she  said 
briskly.  "  Goodness  knows  they  were  anxious 
enough.  One  of  them  took  my  picture  without 
even  waiting  for  me  to  turn  the  right  side  of 
my  face.  I  know  it  will  be  horrid !  " 

"  Indeed,"  fluttered  Marion's  mother.  "  One 
of  them  asked  me  what  I  thought  of  How  —  of 
Mr.  Stanton." 

"  As  though  she  could  tell  them ! "  inter- 
posed Mrs.  Bob. 

Stanton  started  indignantly.  But  when  he 
spoke,  it  was  only  to  say. 

"  I  have  a  great  deal  to  do  this  morning  and 
—  if  you  will  excuse  me  — ." 


A  NEW  INVASION  81 

"  Certainly,"  cried  Mrs.  Livingston  frigidly. 

"  We  will,"  chimed  Mrs.  Bob  and  eyed  him 
till  he  left  the  room.  Then  she  flung  herself 
toward  her  sister-in-law.  "  Oh,  Marion,"  she 
cried,  "  isn't  it  terrible  ?  " 

Marion  only  turned  toward  her  mother. 

"  What  has  happened  to  our  little  bride. 
Has  Bob  done  anything?  " 

Her  mother  thwarted  the  attempted  evasion. 

"  Marion,"  she  remonstrated,  "  how  can  you 
joke?" 

'*  I'm  not  joking,  mother.     What  is  wrong?  " 

"  Wrong ! "  cried  Mrs.  Bob.  She  immedi- 
ately submitted  herself  to  a  remarkable  opera- 
tion, tugging  frantically  at  the  extremely 
tight-fitting  skirt  of  her  fashionable  gown  and 
in  the  final  lift  of  it  displayed  pinned  to  her 
petticoat  a  copy  of  the  Evening  Journal,  its 
black  and  crimson  headline  showing  to  fine  ad- 
vantage the  word ;  "  SCANDAL."  Unpinning 
the  paper,  little  Mrs.  Bob  handed  it  importantly 
to  her  sister-in-law. 

Marion  took  it,  scarcely  glanced  at  it,  re- 
pressed an  exclamation  of  disgust  and  flung  the 
sheet  indifferently  upon  the  table. 


8£  A  WOMAVS  WAY 

"  Well,  Salie,  dear.  I'm  relieved,"  said 
Marion  lightly.  "  I've  been  -wondering  what 
that  was  ever  since  you  came  in." 

"  Yes :  "  answered  Mrs.  Bob  complacently ; 
"  even  a  piece  of  paper  under  these  new  skirts 
does  look  like  a  physical  deformity,  but  I  was 
determined,  dear,  you  should  see  it.  I  thought 
it  my  duty  as  one  married  woman  to  another. 
And,  of  course,  I  couldn't  be  seen,  carrying  the 
sheet" 

"  It  was  sweet  and  thoughtful  of  you,  dear." 

With  increased  complacency  little  Mrs.  Bob 
perched  on  a  chair. 

"  I  must  say  Marion,"  she  commented, —  **  I 
don't  want  to  criticize  you,  understand  —  but 
I  must  say  I  tVnWk  if  you  managed  Howard  a 
little  more  firmly,  this  scandal  would  not  have 
occurred.  We  wives  must  make  a  firm  stand- 
The  whole  future  of  the  country  depends  upon 
ra.  And  we  should  appreciate  the  respoMi- 
bHity.  I  know  I  do." 

u  I'm  quite  sure  you  do,  dear,"  assented 
Marion  with  a  vigorous  nod  of  her  pretty  head. 

"  Yes  —  I  have  spoken  seriously  to  Bobby. 
We  will  never  have  anything  like  this  in  our 
family.  There  will  be  no  opportunity.  I  make 


A  NEW  INVASION  83 

him  account  for  every  minute  of  his  time  — 
here."  Mrs.  Bob  produced  from  her  purse,  a 
little  black  note-book.  "  I  have  a  book ;  he  has 
a  book."  She  gazed  at  her  sister-in-law,  very 
seriously.  "  Every  night  I  check  him  up  and 
if  he  cannot  account  for  every  minute,  I  don't 
even  let  him  kiss  me.  Do  you  see,  my  dear? 
Now  —  why  don't  you  try  that  with  Howard?  " 

A  shrewder  person  than  Mrs.  Bob  might 
have  been  able  to  discern  that  this  talk  was  re- 
ducing Marion  to  a  wretched  state  of  nerves. 
But  the  bird-like  bride's  attitude  denoted  that 
she  expected  a  reply  —  a  favorable  reply  to  her 
suggestion. 

Marion  answered  firmly. 

"  It  might  not  prove  so  good  a  system,"  she 
said ;  "  if  some  night  I  might  want  him  to  kiss 
me." 

"  Oh,  Marion ! "  said  her  mother. 

"  Well,  mother,  is  there  anything  so  disrepu- 
table in  a  married  woman  wishing  her  husband 
to  kiss  her?  Fm  sure  Salie  approves." 

"  Salie  has  been  married  only  one  month." 

"  I  dont  suppose  it  is  proper,"  said  Salie, 
"  just  on  the  eve  of  divorce.  Speaking  of 
divorce,  Marion  — " 


84.  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Why  speak  of  it,  dear?  "  interjected  Marion. 

"  Not  that  I  want  you  to  get  a  divorce  — 
but  if  you  should,  you  know,  you  would  not 
wish  this  lovely  house  to  go  out  of  the  family 
and  Bob  and  I  — " 

"  Salie ! "  said  Mrs.  Livingston  sternly. 

Marion  was  not  unconscious  of  the  bitter 
humor  of  it  all.  But  she  had  been  indulging 
too  much  in  strained  laughter  in  the  hour  just 
gone. 

"  Salie,  dear,"  she  suggested,  "  won't  you  hie 
away  and  tell  Howard  your  ideas?  Surely  he 
will  appreciate  them." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Bob  eagerly.  "  I'll 
talk  to  him,"  she  said  determinedly  and  vanished 
in  pursuit  of  her  quarry. 

"  Don't  bully  him,"  called  Marion  after  her. 

Mrs.  Livingston  scanned  the  doorway 
through  which  Salie  had  disappeared. 

"  I  cannot  for  the  life  of  me,"  the  mother 
announced,  "  understand  what  your  brother 
Robert,  ever  saw  in  that  girl." 

"  O,  they  will  be  happy,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes,"  came  the  rather  querulous  rejoinder, 
"  I  suppose  so.  One  can  never  tell  who  will  be 


THE   BIRD-LIKE   BRIDE'S  ATTITUDE   DENOTED    THAT    SHE    EXPECTED    A    REPLY 

fast  Sj 


A  NEW  INVASION  85 

happy  and  who  will  not.  Now,  I  supposed  that 
you  — " 

"  Mother  —  don't !  " 

Clearly  now  Marion  was  overwrought  to  the 
point  of  break-down.  The  maternal  instinct 
brought  Mrs.  Livingston  forward  with  quick 
sympathy. 

"  Can't  you  tell  your  mother  all  about  it, 
dear." 

There  was  a  definite  sweet  comfort  to  the 
young  wife  in  what  she  immediately  did,  drop- 
ping on  a  foot-stool  near  the  sofa  and  bending 
over  to  rest  her  face  in  her  mother's  lap.  Ten- 
derly the  mother  stroked  her  daughter's  hair. 
And  when  Marion  lifted  her  face,  it  was  to  say : 

"  It  was  partly  my  fault,  mother,  I  suppose. 
I  did  not  take  as  much  interest  as  I  should  in 
the  things  that  amused  Howard." 

"  I  should  hope  not ! "  said  the  matron  in 
horror. 

"  I  did  —  I  did,  you  know,  mother,  go  in 
for  society  a  good  deal." 

"  Of  course." 

The  young  wife  looked  vaguely  out  across 
the  room. 


86  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  He  did  not  realize  that  it  was  because  I 
•was  lonesome.  Sometimes,  mother,  I  think  men 
are  awful  fools." 

"  Why  they  are  almost  always,"  said  Mrs. 
Livingston.  "  But,  that  doesn't  excuse  Howard 
Stanton !  Bringing  about  such  a  scandal ! 
Now  we  will  have  all  the  horrible  notoriety  of  a 
divorce  suit — " 

"  Divorce  suit,"  young  Mrs.  Stanton  sat  up 
straight.  "  Oh,  no ;  put  that  idea  out  of  your 
head,  mother." 

"  But,  my  daughter,  what  can  you  do  ?  You 
can't  live  with  him  after  this  scandal.  Consider 
your  own  dignity.  It's  scarcely  proper. 
Why,  when  I  came  this  mornng  I  hardly  ex- 
pected to  find  you  here !  " 

"  Where  did  you  expect  to  find  me?  Out  on 
the  street  talking  to  the  reporters?  "  Marion's 
gray  eyes  took  on  anew  their  old  humorous 
twinkle  as  she  put  the  question. 

"  Marion ! " 

"  Mother,  dear,"  said  the  young  woman  feel- 
ingly ;  "  it's  time  to  end  this  hypocrisy  that  is 
merely  a  confession  of  weakness.  It  is  time,  I 
tell  you,  for  the  good  women  to  wake  up;  we 


A  NEW  INVASION  87 

fight  to  get  our  husbands ;  then  let  us  fight  to 
hold  them.  We  good  women  are  too  fond  of 
sitting  still  and  pretending  to  be  coldly  superior 
while  our  hearts  break  as  the  other  women  steal 
our  husbands."  Marion  arose.  "  Well,"  she 
said,  "  I'm  not  going  to  be  like  that.  Not 
much.  If  she  gets  my  husband  she'll  earn  him." 

Mrs.  Livingston  fingered  her  lorgnette  un- 
easily. 

"  Marion,"  she  reproved,  "  you  always  did 
have  impossible  ideas." 

"  Impossible.  I'll  show  you,  mother,  how  im- 
possible this  one  is." 

Mrs.  Livingston  stared  inquiringly  at  her 
daughter. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  my  dear?  " 

Marion  bent  her  head;  her  handkerchief  at 
her  lips. 

"  Never  mind,  now,  mother,"  she  said  softly, 
"  just  curb  that  curiosity.  I  have  a  plan. 
Yes :  I  have  a  plan.  Just  you  wait  and  see." 

"  Well,  all  I  can  say,"  remarked  Mrs.  Living- 
ston, tapping  her  lorgnette  on  the  fingers  of 
a  gloved  hand,  "  is  I  wish  you  had  married 
Oliver  Whitney." 


88  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  I  did  not  love  Oliver  Whitney,"  answered 
the  daughter  warmly.  "  I  loved  Howard.  I 
do  love  Howard." 

Mrs.  Livingston  drew  herself  up. 

"  Marion,"  she  announced,  "  if  you  are  not 
crazy,  you  ought  to  be.  I  don't  know  where 
you  get  such  impossible  ideas.  Certainly  not 
from  my  side  of  the  family." 

And  now  at  her  last  word  the  door-bell  rang 
again. 

"  That,"  said  Mrs.  Livingston  significantly, 
"  must  be  your  father." 

Wilson  entered  the  room. 

"  Mrs.  Stanton,"  he  announced.  The  next 
instant,  the  lady  from  Tuxedo  was  on  the  scene. 


'IF    SHE   GETS    MY    HUSBAND    SHE'LL   EARN    HIM 


Page  87 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  MOTHERS'  TOURNAMENT 

IN  manner  somewhat  indicative  of  a  rush, 
Howard's  mother  entered  the  room ;  a  large, 
decidedly  handsome  woman,  too  well-figured  to 
be  termed  buxom;  retaining  too  much  yet  of 
bloom  in  her  face  to  be  thought  elderly.  She 
was  positive  in  manner  —  in  glance,  gesture 
and  opinions  to  the  point  of  being  over-bearing. 
But  woman-like  she  had  her  tendernesses  and 
what  more  natural  than  that  the  greatest  of 
these  was  her  love  for  her  big,  good-looking  son, 
Howard.  Lacking,  perhaps,  the  fine  fibre  of 
Marion  and  her  mother,  she  had  yet  a  certainty 
of  poise,  a  dignity  not  unimpressive. 

Marion  knew,  of  course,  that  Mrs.  Stanton 
would,  however  illogical  the  attitude  might  be, 
take  sides  with  Howard.  Indeed,  she  would 
have  been  disappointed  did  her  mother-in-law 
show  any  other  inclination.  Her  greeting  of 
the  other  woman  was,  however,  restrained. 
89 


90  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

She  went  toward  her  expecting  to  be  kissed,  but 
was  relieved  to  find  that  Mrs.  Stanton  was  sat- 
isfied with  the  more  distant  salutation  of  a  hand- 
shake. 

"  Good  morning,"  said  Marion,  "  it  was  sweet 
of  you  to  come  so  early,  and  I'm  awfully  glad  to 
see  you." 

"  I  would  have  been  here  two  hours  ago,"  de- 
clared Mrs.  Stanton  emphatically,  "  but  for  the 
intolerable  insolence  of  the  police.  Coming  in 
from  Tuxedo  they  arrested  us  twice  for  speed- 
ing. And  when  the  magistrate  learned  whose 
car  it  was,  he  said,  '  Oh,  Howard  Stanton's 
mother,'  and  then  doubled  the  fine !  —  besides  be- 
ing most  impertinent." 

Mrs.  Stanton  further  expressed  her  outraged 
feelings  by  a  hasty  adjustment  of  the  swathings 
of  her  automobile  veil.  She  then  saw  Marion's 
mother,  who  had  arisen. 

"  Good  morning,  Mrs.  Stanton,"  said  Mrs. 
Livingston,  quite  without  any  expression  in  her 
tone. 

Mrs.  Stanton  first  seated  herself  in  a  chair  at 
some  distance. 

"  Good  morning,"  she  returned  with  equal 
coldness. 


THE  MOTHERS'  TOURNAMENT   91 

Little  lights  of  laughter  began  to  dance  in 
Marion's  eyes  as  she  regarded  both. 

"  With  the  example  of  your  son's  accident, 
you  were  very  brave  to  come  so  fast,"  said  Mrs. 
Livingston  sweetly. 

"  I  was  not  coming  fast,"  replied  Mrs.  Stan- 
ton  icily,  "  a  bare  forty-mile  rate.  I  really 
don't  understand  why  some  gentlemen  don't  be- 
come judges  so  we  might  have  a  little  justice  and 
courtesy  in  our  courts.  The  idea  of  delaying  a 
mother  on  her  way  to  visit  her  injured  son." 

"  You  must  stay  to  lunch,"  interjected  Ma- 
rion cordially.  "  It  will  be  a  great  pleasure  to 
Howard  and  me,  having  our  two  mothers  with 
us." 

"  Thank  you,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Livingston, 
and  before  Mrs.  Stanton  could  reply,  Marion 
continued : 

"  I'll  run  away  and  fetch  Howard  —  if  you 
two  will  amuse  each  other,"  and  Marion,  once 
outside  the  room,  permitted  herself  the  indul- 
gence of  a  mischievous  little  smile. 

Rigid  silence  ensued.  Mrs.  Livingston  stared 
at  a  picture.  Mrs.  Stanton  stared  at  the  fire- 
place. Twice  each  lady  uttered  a  nervous 
cough. 


92  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

The  more  highly-strung  nerves  of  Mrs.  Liv- 
ingston found  the  situation  intolerable,  and  her 
courage  was  not  wanting.  She  broke  the 
silence. 

"  Beg  your  pardon.     You  were  saying?  " 

"  I,"  said  Mrs.  Stanton  frigidly,  "  was  not 
saying  anything." 

Mrs.  Livingston  fell  back  on  the  amenities. 

"  It's  a  charming  day,  so  bright  and  cheer- 
ful." 

She  caught  herself  on  the  last  word,  realizing 
that  under  the  circumstances,  it  had  sounded 
vividly  ironical. 

Mrs.  Stanton  spoke  more  forcibly. 

"  Did  those  newspaper  ruffians  insult  you  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  They  were  most  impertinent.  They  took 
my  picture." 

"  They  wouldn't  dare  do  that  to  me." 

"  No ;  I  don't  think  they  would,"  observed 
Mrs.  Livingston  very  readily. 

"  Well,  it  certainly  was  not  my  son's  desire  to 
get  into  the  papers." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  insinuate  that  it  was  my 
daughter's?  " 

Mrs.  Stanton  lifted  her  chin. 


THE  MOTHERS'  TOURNAMENT   93 

"  A  young  man  of  position  must  have  his 
amusements,  provided  he  lives  within  his  in- 
come." 

"  I  think,"  said  Mrs.  Livingston  as  evenly 
as  she  could,  "  he  should  always  remember  his 
position  and  not  humiliate  his  wife.  Fortu- 
nately, my  daughter  has  her  own  income  —  a 
wedding  present  from  her  father." 

Mrs.  Stanton  frowned. 

"  I  trust  my  son  maintains  his  own  establish- 
ment." 

Mrs.  Livingston  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  That  is  exactly  the  trouble,"  she  replied, 
"  he  maintains  too  many." 

"  Has  Mrs.  Howard  Stanton  complained  ?  " 
demanded  the  Tuxedo  matron. 

"  The  Livingston  women  have  a  pride  of  birth 
which  prevents  them  complaining." 

Mrs.  Stanton  sat  up. 

"  Oh  —  the  Stanton  men  never  permit  outside 
interference  in  their  family  affairs,"  she  said 
politely. 

"  Fortunately,  then,  the  courts  provide  a  rem- 
edy," observed  Marion's  mother. 

"  Most  fortunately."  Mrs.  Stanton's  tone 
was  overburdened  with  its  accent  of  assent. 


94s  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

Mrs.  Livingston  thoughtfully  sprung  her 
lorgnettes  and  as  thoughtfully  closed  them. 

"  Of  course,"  she  commented,  "  there  must  be 
this  unavoidable  disgrace  of  an  old  and  honored 
name  dragged  through  the  mire  of  a  divorce 
case." 

A  catch  came  into  her  voice  now  and  suddenly 
Mrs.  Stanton  sniffed  quite  audibly. 

*  Divorce !  Oh,  they  should  think  of  their 
parents !  If  Mr.  Stanton  were  alive !  " 

"  General  Livingston  will  take  some  action," 
said  Marion's  mother  reassuringly. 

"  I  think,"  declared  Mrs.  Stanton  very  sol- 
emnly and  determinedly,  "  that  they  should  both 
be  spanked." 

A  second  later,  however,  at  sight  of  Marion 
and  Howard  entering  together,  she  was  on  her 
feet,  her  solicitude  uppermost  at  sight  of  his 
bandages. 

"  My  boy  —  my  dear  boy." 

"  Mother,  I'm  glad  to  see  you." 

"  My  boy." 

She  embraced  him,  lingered  over  him  quite  as 
if  he  were  still  a  plump  mischief-maker  in  knick- 
erbockers. 

"  Now  —  now,  mother.     There  is  nothing  the 


matter.  I  am  all  right,"  Howard  assured  her, 
but  she  embraced  him  anew. 

Little  Mrs.  Bob  brisked  into  the  library,  her 
pretty  mouth  set  as  tightly  as  its  rosy  lips  would 
close.  She  sought  out  Marion. 

"  I  spoke  to  Howard,"  she  said  furiously, 
"  and  he  was  perfectly  horrid.  Practically  told 
me  to  mind  my  own  business." 

"  Why  didn't  you,  dear?  "  suggested  Marion 
softly. 

"  Oh !  "  And  little  Mrs.  Bob  fluttered  across 
the  room  and  perched  tremblingly  upon  a  chair. 

Wilson,  harbinger  of  fresh  sensations,  the 
morning  long,  appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"  General  Livingston,"  he  announced. 


XAXIOX'S    DZ.CB1OX 

IF  the  scandal  sent  abroad  by  tbe  newspapers 
bad  sorely  distressed  and  humiliated  Mrs. 
Livingston,  outraged  Mr.  Morris*  iwpectabil- 
ity ,  moved  little  Mn.  Bob  to  m.  fever  beig 
excitement  and  caused  Mis.  Stanton  to  declare 
tbat  botb  ber  son  and  Marion  should  be  spanked, 
in  the  mind  of  General  Livingston,  guided  by 
•.•uji  precept  in  the  moaac  of  a  gentleman  of 
the  old  school,  there  was  the  hot  conviction  ***»* 
Stanton  ought  to  be  shot  or  —  well, 

:-  *    .~:^~~. 

Without  definite  plan  of  action,  but  flung 
by  his  seething  anger.  General  Livingston 
bis  way  to  the  Sborina  hone.  He  pic- 
tured Marion  ashamed  and  in  tens;  broken- 
JMrtnl,  fainting  now  and  tben,  or  perhaps  in  a 
complete  state  of  nervous  *••*•[•••,,  mmd  thif  idea 
kept  the  straight  old,  fta  fiahmil  stern-faced 
gentleman  of  luij  fitc.  aft  m  point  of  fit  r 


MARION'S  DECISION  97 

bflity.     It  found  expression  now  and  then  in  a 
muttered  stream  of  battlefield  vocabulary. 

To  have  reared  his  sweet  little  girl  most  ten- 
derly and  seen  her  married  to  a  parvenu  —  that 
had  been  bad  enough  despite  the  fellow's  undeni- 
able good  looks  and  easy  manners  and  great 
wealth.  But  to  have  his  "  little  girl " —  and  he 
never  thought  of  her  in  any  other  way;  his 
"  little  girl "  that  he  loved  to  the  full  of  idoliza- 
tion, cheated,  dishonored,  discarded  by  this  self- 
same parvenu,  goaded  the  good  General's  emo- 
tions until  he  felt  like  a  human  bomb  —  one 
with  the  fuse  lighted  and  about  to  burst- 
Outwardly  he  appeared  in  the  Stanton  library 
with  two  fiery  patches  of  crimson  burning  in  his 
thin  cheeks  and  his  mouth  drawn  straight  under 
his  white  mustache, 

Marion    was    alarmed.     She    could    read    the 
storm  signals.     She  hurried  to  him. 
"  Dad !  "  she  cried  and  hugged  him. 
"  Marion,  my  little  girl,"  he  returned,  kissing 
her  tenderly,  holding  her  as  one  might  hold  a 
wounded  creature. 

Rolled  and  gripped  hard  in  one  hand  was  a 
copy  of  the  latest  edition  of  one  of  the  most  sen- 
sational newspapers. 


98  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Oh,  Dad,"  she  bantered  quickly,  "  did  you 
bring  another  of  those  horrible  things  into  the 
house." 

She  took  it  from  him,  laughing  to  show  she 
did  not  care,  while  he  studied  her  in  wonder. 
She  read  the  headline  aloud  and  laughingly: 

**  Family  Conference!     O,  how  absurd." 

She  laughed  again,  tossing  the  paper  on  the 
table. 

"  Marion,"  said  the  General  curtly,  "  I  have 
come  to  take  you  home." 

But  she  stood  away  from  him,  smiling 
slightly ;  yet  when  she  spoke,  it  was  in  a  manner 
of  simple  dignity: 

"  I  am  at  home,  father." 

Stanton,  who  had  stood  aside,  knowing  well 
what  he  might  expect  in  consideration  from  this 
quarter  of  Marion's  family,  now  that  he  heard 
her  speak  to  this  effect,  walked  resolutely  for- 
ward and  faced  the  old  man. 

"  This  is  Marion's  home,  General,"  he  as- 
serted. 

General  Livingston's  gray  eyes  narrowed. 

"  I  am  Marion's  father  and  I  do  not  recognize 
your  right,  sir,  to  decide  in  this  matter." 

i "  I  am  Marion's  husband  and  whether  you 


MARION'S  DECISION  99 

recognize  it  or  not,  I  have  the  right,"  Stanton 
retorted,  bluntly. 

And  now  Marion  spoke,  not  loudly,  but  with  a 
ring  of  determination  in  her  voice  notwithstand- 
ing. 

"  And  they  both  guessed  wrong  the  very  first 
time,"  she  smiled  pleasantly  as  she  said  this. 
But  again  looking  from  one  to  another,  her  fine- 
featured,  small,  delicate  countenance  was  alto- 
gether serious. 

"  Father  —  Howard  —  you  are  both  dears 
and  you  are  both  acting  exactly  as  you  should. 
But  dear  men,  that  day  when  you  grandly  de- 
cided and  women  meekly  submitted  has  gone  by. 
Father,  I  owe  you  respect.  I  owe  Howard  al- 
legiance —  so  long  as  he  deserves  it." 

She  clasped  her  hands  behind  her  and  looked 
at  them  freely  and  steadily. 

"  But  no  one,"  she  continued,  "  can  decide 
for  me  anything  that  is  going  to  affect  my  whole 
life.  I  will  decide  it  myself  —  for  myself  — 
and  when  and  how  I  please." 

Mrs.  Livingston  and  Mrs.  Stanton  sat  very 
quietly ;  little  Mrs.  Bob  was  very  wide-eyed ; 
the  General  looked  on  aghast.  On  Stanton's 
mouth  showed  the  merest  suggestion  of  a  smile. 


100  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

Wilson  appeared  in  the  doorway.  Marion's 
face  lighted  at  sight  of  him. 

"  My  decision  is,"  she  said  lightly,  "  that  we 
all  go  to  lunch.  Ah,  Ned,"  she  called  as  Mor- 
ris appeared,  "  will  you  take  mother ;  father  — 
take  Mrs.  Stanton." 

The  others,  dazed  as  the  first  couple,  joined 
the  little  procession  on  its  way  to  the  dining- 
room. 

But  Marion  laid  her  hand  on  Stanton's  arm. 

"  Just  a  moment,  Howard,"  she  requested. 

He  came  back  into  the  room.  They  were 
silent  for  awhile.  Then  he  said: 

"  Well,  Marion,  what  are  you  going  to  do  ? 
I  will  abide  by  your  decision." 

Marion  breathed  a  little  sharply.  She 
pressed  her  hand  against  her  bosom. 

"  Who  is  she?  "  she  asked. 

The  young  husband  shook  his  head. 

"  I  told  you,  Marion,"  he  declared,  "  she  is 
innocent  of  anything  wrong." 

"Who  is  she?" 

As  he  did  not  respond,  she  stood  for  a  space 
with  lowered  eyes;  then  she  lifted  her  glance 
and  said: 

"  I  promise  you  not  to  use  her  name  if  I  sue." 


MARION'S  DECISION  101 

Stanton  hesitated. 

"  Now  —  who  is  she?  "  urged  Marion. 

It  was  with  an  aspect  of  shame-facedness  that 
he  finally  spoke  the  name. 

"  Mrs.  Blakemore." 

"  Mrs." —  she  paused  on  the  name.  "  The 
rich  widow  from  the  South?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Do  you  love  her?  " 

She  tried  hard  to  ask  the  question  easily; 
tried  hard  not  to  ask  it  with  a  sob,  and  she  suc- 
ceeded. 

Stanton  did  not  readily  reply,  but  when  he 
diJ  it  was  with  an  air  of  full  determination. 

"  Hang  it,  Marion,"  he  blurted,  "  you've 
been  frank ;  I'll  be  as  frank  as  I  can  be  —  I'm 
darned  if  I  know  !  " 

She  recoiled  a  little.  But  her  courage  of  de- 
meanor endured. 

"  Good ;  then  I'll  give  you  a  chance  to  find 
out,"  she  returned.  "  A  man  goes  to  the  woman 
who  offers  most  to  his  nature.  I  am  a  woman. 
She  is  a  woman.  If  I  cannot  hold  you  against 
all  women,  I  do  not  want  you." 

She  stepped  up  closely  to  him,  looking  him 
squarely  in  the  eyes. 


102  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  We,"  she  said  curtly,  "  will  invite  Mrs. 
Blakemore  here  and  put  it  to  the  test." 

The  amazed  Stanton  steadied  himself  by  grip- 
ping the  back  of  a  chair.  He  thrust  his  head 
forward,  his  mouth  half  open  in  the  shock  of 
the  announcement. 

"  Marion ! "  cried  the  young  husband  des- 
perately. 

She  smiled.  She  waved  her  hand  trium- 
phantly. 

"  That  is  my  decision." 


CHAPTER  X 

MBS.    BLAKEMORE 

IN  a  bow  window  of  her  apartment  on  River- 
side Drive,  Mrs.  Ruth  Blakemore,  having 
just  finished  breakfast,  gently  pushed  several 
articles  of  the  silver  service  further  back  on  the 
table  and  drew  forward  a  salver  on  which  was 
her  morning  mail,  left  there  by  her  mulatto 
maid.  There  were  at  least  a  dozen  letters.  She 
opened  the  first  languidly  with  a  smile  at  the 
big,  round  boyish  handwriting  that  the  envel- 
ope revealed.  As  her  eyes  perused  the  contents 
she  laughed  ripplingly. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  was  a  beautiful  woman. 
That  woman  must  be  beautiful  indeed  who  looks 
entirely  so  in  a  morning  gown  an  hour  after  she 
has  arisen.  Her  age  was  either  a  little  before 
or  a  little  behind  the  thirtieth  year.  Youth, 
health,  vitality  were  still  with  her.  It  was  prob- 
ably a  superabundance  of  all  three  that  led  Mrs. 
Blakemore  along  the  paths  she  so  constantly 
103 


104  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

traveled  —  the  gay  suppers,  gay  rides  and  drives 
and  merely  "  gay  "  affairs  with  members  of  the 
opposite  sex. 

She  had  never  ceased  congratulating  herself 
on  the  good  fortune  of  her  marriage.  She  had 
been  sorely  set  against  it  when  at  the  suggestion 
of  her  maiden  aunts  she  received  the  attention  of 
the  wealthy  middle-aged  Northerner  who  had 
established  big  cotton  mills  near  her  Atlanta 
home.  Just  then  her  vision  was  filled  fondly 
with  the  picture  of  dashing  Hugh  Pendleton,  on 
his  prancing  thoroughbred.  But  the  thorough- 
bred was  about  all  that  Hugh  owned  by  way  of 
a  fortune.  The  maiden  aunts,  themselves  eking 
out  the  dull  existence  of  the  shabby  genteel  on 
the  smallest  of  incomes,  were  sorely  concerned 
for  the  livelihood  of  their  niece  when  their  deaths 
should  leave  her  alone  in  the  world.  For  the 
little  incomes  would  stop  entirely  then  and  the 
girl  would  be  penniless.  This  they  weepingly 
confided  to  her  and,  moreover,  set  before  her 
the  allurement  of  the  wealth  that  might  be 
her*s  —  the  luxuries  that  would  be  at  her  com- 
mand, the  pride  with  which  she  might  move  in 
paths  where  she  had  been  largely  obliged  to 
walk  with  a  humility  alien  to  her  nature. 


MRS.  BLAKEMORE  105 

There  had  come  a  day  when  Hugh  did  not 
seem  as  fascinating  and  handsome  as  usual, 
when  the  touch  of  his  hand  did  not  carry  the 
usual  thrill,  and  that  same  evening  the  gypsy 
eyes  of  the  black-haired  Southern  girl  smiled  in 
kindly  assent  on  the  sixth  proposal  of  the  mid- 
dle-aged but  ardent  Northerner. 

In  the  new  life  that  offered  she  entered  with 
the  splendid  vim  of  her  vigorous  nature,  with 
the  devoted  middle-aged  manufacturer  always 
somewhat  breathless  in  her  wake.  She  toured 
Europe,  journeyed  into  the  Orient  and  began 
nicking  off  flirtations  on  her  fan.  It  soon  be- 
came necessary  to  get  another  fan.  And  still 
another.  Her  middle-aged  husband,  never  ex- 
actly repentant  of  his  bargain,  had,  however, 
begun  to  worry  considerably  over  her  insatiable 
desire  for  the  society  of  members  of  his  own  sex. 
Then  after  a  very  late  and  heavy  supper,  an 
attack  of  acute  indigestion  ended  his  troubles 
forever  in  so  far  as  this  earth  was  concerned. 

At  the  time  of  the  affair  of  the  automobile  ac- 
cident with  Howard  Stanton,  Mrs.  Blakemore's 
collection  of  fans  was  a  remarkably  large  one. 
And  she  was  still  looking  f  orward  to  the  increase 
with  interest  and  amusement  unabated. 


106  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

The  letter  that  caused  her  laughter  was  the 
eager  appeal  of  a  college  youth  that  she  should 
not  forget  her  promise  to  do  him  the  honor  of 
attending  the  commencement  exercises  which  he 
pointed  out  with  unconscious  humor  on  this 
April  morning,  were  not  now  far  off.  She  re- 
membered the  meeting  with  the  boy  at  a  theatre 
party  during  the  Christmas  holidays.  There 
had  been  a  luncheon  afterwards.  At  the  end 
of  the  luncheon,  he  had  proposed  to  her.  That 
evening  she  had  laughingly  made  another  nick 
in  her  fan  —  a  rather  small  one. 

A  further  examination  of  her  morning's  mail 
could  have  revealed  that  the  beautiful  and  alto- 
gether dazzling  Mrs.  Blakemore  had  no  particu- 
lar preferences  in  the  matter  of  the  age  of  her 
quarries.  There  was  a  dinner  invitation  from 
a  white-haired  judge ;  a  novelist  of  forty  pleaded 
for  favor ;  a  club-man  of  thirty-five  and  a  ridic- 
ulous little  French  count  who  dyed  his  hair,  but 
apparently  could  not  or  would  not  die  him- 
self, had  written  her  from  Paris  a  great  outburst 
of  sentimentality  which  to  more  sensitive  eyes 
would  have  appeared  pitifully  ghastly,  because 
of  the  quivering  writing  indited  by  the  palsied 
old  hand. 


MRS.  BLAKEMORE  107 

"  The  antiquated  idiot ! "  Mrs.  Blakemore 
said,  and  laughed  immoderately  when  she  came 
to  it. 

But  before  she  had  gone  down  the  entire  pile, 
she  came  upon  a  letter  which  she  took  up  and 
scanned  curiously.  It  was  addressed  in  a  femi- 
nine hand  and  Mrs.  Blakemore  got  very  few  let- 
ters which  bore  feminine  handwriting.  More- 
over, the  handwriting  was  different  than  that 
of  any  woman  whom  she  knew. 

The  note  was  brief,  but  its  few  words  started 
in  the  mind  of  the  young  widow  a  very  long 
train  of  thought,  and  the  more  she  followed  it 
the  less  satisfactorily  was  she  able  to  understand 
the  situation. 

The  square,  heavy  sheet  of  paper  she  held  in 
her  hand  was  nothing  other  than  a  cordial  invi- 
tation from  Marion  Stanton,  asking  her  to  at- 
tend a  dinner  which  from  the  wording  of  the  let- 
ter was  evidently  to  be  held  in  her  honor. 

This  letter,  coming  only  a  few  days  after  the 
automobile  accident  in  which  Mrs.  Blakemore, 
notwithstanding  the  statements  of  Lynch  of  the 
City  News,  had  suffered  only  the  injury  of  a 
few  slight  bruises  and  something  of  a  shock  and 
something  also  of  fear  that  the  thin  ice  on  which 


108  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

she  had  been  moving  would  now  break  and  let 
her  down  into  social  obloquy ;  logically  caused 
Mrs.  Blakemore  no  little  wonderment. 

With  her  small,  smooth  hand  she  pushed  back 
a  heavy  tress  of  her  jet  black  hair  from  her 
forehead  and  looked  out  through  the  broad  win- 
dow at  the  big,  bright  river  beyond.  In  a  little 
while,  such  was  the  resiliency  of  her  tempera- 
ment, she  smiled.  She  had  quite  made  up  her 
mind  that  it  was  all  right ;  that  Howard  Stanton, 
infatuated  with  her,  had  managed  to  keep  secret 
her  identity  as  his  companion  on  the  unfortu- 
nate ride  and  that  he  was  using  his  wife  as  an 
unknowing  tool,  to  lift  her  out  of  the  possible 
suspicion  of  certain  of  their  intimates  by  caus- 
ing her  to  be  entertained,  a  guest  of  honor,  in  his 
home. 

It  was  clever  of  Stanton,  she  decided  —  a 
much  more  clever  notion  than  she  would  have 
credited  him  with  being  able  to  conceive.  She 
experienced  no  little  of  a  pleasant  thrill  also  in 
the  contemplation  that  this  thing  which  she  be- 
lieved him  to  have  done,  furnished  so  startling 
a  proof  that  her  sway  over  him  was  strong 
indeed. 

It  was  a  deep  nick  for  her  fan  surely  to  have 


MRS.  BLAKEMORE  109 

subjugated  so  absolutely  the  handsomest  young 
blood  in  town.  There  was  a  picture  of  him  in 
a  gold  frame  on  her  writing  table.  And  now 
she  looked  over  to  it  and  smiled. 

Presently  she  arose,  went  over  to  the  table,  sat 
at  it,  drew  her  writing  paper  into  position, 
poised  the  tip  of  gold-inlaid  penholder  for  a  few 
seconds  at  her  scarlet  lips,  and  then,  smiling, 
penned  to  Marion  Stanton  a  reply. 

It  was  a  graceful,  even  warm  communication 
of  acceptance.  Quite  as  informal  and  respon- 
sive as  Marion's  invitation  had  been  also  infor- 
mal and  wholly  cordial. 

Had  Mrs.  Blakemore  seen  Mrs.  Marion  Stan- 
ton  when  she  received  it,  she  would  have  been 
moved  to  suspicion,  to  wonder  and  even  perhaps 
to  panic. 

Mrs.  Marion  Stanton  laughed  aloud;  did  a 
few  light  steps  of  a  dance  the  while  she  hugged 
the  letter  against  her  bosom. 

The  bait  had  been  taken.  Mrs.  Blakemore 
would  come.  The  comedy  would  be  played  as 
little  Mrs.  Stanton  had  planned.  And  then 
what?  What  would  Howard  do?  Would  he 
understand  ? 

Marion  felt  that  he  surely  would.     But  at 


110  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

any  rate,  she  was  doing  the  best  she  knew.  Her 
way  of  winning  him  completely  back  to  her,  of 
utterly  eliminating  the  beautiful  young  widow 
from  his  heart  and  mind  forever,  seemed,  the 
more  she  thought  of  it,  to  be  the  only  way.  It 
would  be  unique;  startling  probably.  But  it 
promised  to  be  altogether  effective.  She  had 
cast  the  die;  she  was  willing  to  stand  by  the 
turn  that  Fate  would  give  it. 


CHAPTER  XI 

"  A  HUSBAND TO  GIVE  AWAY  " 

SOMETHING  before  the  dinner  hour  of  the 
evening  which  was  marked  for  Mrs.  Blake- 
more's  entertainment  as  the  guest  of  honor  in 
Howard  Stanton's  home,  the  imperturbable  Wil- 
son succeeded  unconsciously  in  getting  very 
much  on  the  nerves  of  his  master.  The  fat 
functionary  was  moving  with  his  soft,  even  tread 
about  the  library,  fixing  a  curtain,  setting  a 
chair  anew  and  fooling  about  the  fireplace  — 
final  official  touches  against  the  arrival  of  the 
guests. 

Stanton  himself  had  entered  the  room,  plainly 
an  agitated  man.  Ordinarily  very  careful  of 
his  uress,  his  clothing  hung  slightly  awry  on  his 
athletic  form,  and  his  white  scarf  stood  in  a  con- 
fused knot,  noticeably  to  one  side  of  the  front 
of  his  collar.  He  regarded  Wilson's  phleg- 
matic movements  with  growing  irritation.  Fi- 
nally he  broke  forth  sharply: 
111 


A  WOMAN'S  WAY 


"  What  are  you  doing?  " 

"  Nothing,  sir." 

"  Well,  go  and  do  something." 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  I  will,  sir." 

Wilson  began  working  noisily  at  the  fire- 
place. 

"  Oh,  that's  enough  of  that  1  "  snarled  Stan- 
ton. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Stanton  strode  over  to  the  fireplace  and  did 
not  perceive  the  entrance  of  his  wife.  Ma- 
rion looked  cool  and  lovely  in  a  very  sim- 
ple but  exquisite  gown  of  silk  that  displayed 
softly  yet  most  advantageously  the  snowiness 
of  her  neck  and  throat,  the  delicate  coloring  of 
her  cheeks,  the  golden  yellow  of  her  spun-gold 
hair.  A  series  of  quick,  little  clenching  mo- 
tions of  her  hand  upon  her  handkerchief  be- 
trayed a  nervous  tension  equal  to  that  which  her 
husband  was  undergoing,  but  by  these  slight, 
significant  gestures  only  could  it  be  read.  Her 
gray  eyes  looked  large,  ingenuous  and  quite 
calm. 

"  Dressed?  "  she  asked  easily  of  her  husband. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  brusquely. 

She  went  over  and  placed  him  under  close  and 


"A  HUSBAND  — TO  GIVE  AWAY"     113 

deliberate  scrutiny.  The  lack  of  care,  the  posi- 
tive disarrangement  of  parts  of  his  attire  caused 
her  a  lift  of  the  eyebrows.  But  she  said  nothing 
to  him.  She  turned  to  the  butler. 

"  I  want  everything  to  look  particularly  nice 
to-night,  Wilson,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Stanton." 

Wilson,  at  loss  for  what  further  might  be 
done,  moved  a  tall  vase  about  an  inch  along  the 
mantel  sljelf  above  the  fireplace. 

Marion  almost  at  the  end  of  her  ability  to 
hide  her  nervous  anticipation  of  the  events  due 
to  happen  on  this  night  in  the  execution  of  her 
plan  to  hold  her  husband's  love,  made  much  ado 
regarding  this  slight  performance  by  Wilson. 

"  No  —  no  —  that  won't  do  at  all,"  she  de- 
clared, and  in  proof  of  the  validity  of  her  ob- 
jection, she  moved  hurriedly  across  the  room 
and  moved  the  vase  back  just  about  half  an 
inch,  stood  away  and  commented: 

"  There !     That's  much  better." 

She  took  another  ornament  from  the  mantel, 
held  it  the  while  she  seemed  in  great  thought 
concerning  it,  and  then  replaced  the  vase  in  al- 
most exactly  the  same  spot  from  which  she  had 
taken  it. 


A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Howard,"  she  said  suddenly,  "  Mrs.  Blake- 
more  is  dark,  isn't  she?  " 

Stanton,  pretending  to  read  a  book,  answered 
shortly:  "Yes." 

"  Move  out  that  blue-green  fire  shield,  Wil- 
son," said  the  little  woman  promptly.  "  Dark 
women  so  love  a  blue-green  background,"  she 
volunteered  to  her  husband. 

She  watched  Wilson  obey  her  order,  when  she 
said: 

"  That  will  do  —  you  may  go." 

Marion  glanced  everywhere  about  the  room. 
She  indulged  in  a  sigh  of  satisfaction. 

"  I  think  everything  looks  very  nice,"  she  de- 
clared cheerily. 

Stanton,  who  had  fidgeted  with  the  book,  fidg- 
eted with  his  collar,  his  waistcoat,  his  cuffs,  his 
hair  —  now  watched  Wilson  impatiently  until 
the  man  was  gone.  He  slapped  down  the 
book. 

"  Look  here,  Marion,"  he  called  angrily, 
"  what  the  thunder  is  this  you  think  you  are 
pulling  off?  " 

"  Pulling  off?  "  she  laughed  sweetly.  "  A 
dinner,  Howard,  to  your  friend,  Mrs.  Blake- 
more." 


"A  HUSBAND  — TO  GIVE  AWAY"     115 

"  Well,  I  don't  approve  of  it,"  he  answered 
sullenly. 

"  Why  ?  Is  Mrs.  Blakemore  someone  I  really 
ought  not  meet?  " 

Stanton  jerked  his  chin  forward  above  his 
collar. 

"  Of  course  not,"  he  retorted.  "  But  the  cir- 
cumstances —  everything  — " 

"  We've  discussed  that,  Howard ;  I'm  doing 
you  a  favor." 

"  A  favor  ?  "  queried  the  dumbfounded  man. 

Marion  smiled  quickly  and  nodded. 

"  Yes ;  certainly.  It  isn't  every  wife  who 
would  introduce  her  successor.  Besides,  she 
really  ought  to  meet  the  family.  Don't  you 
think  it  is  so  much  nicer  to  be  properly  intro- 
duced? " 

The  man  gasped.  He  regarded  his  small, 
pretty  wife  in  sheer  amazement.  In  the  end  he 
spoke  thickly,  uncertainly. 

"  Can't  you  see  it  will  be  an  awful  mess  ?  " 

"Why?"  She  laughed  at  him.  "Won't 
you  be  able  to  conceal  your  affection?  " 

Stanton  swept  his  arm  out  angrily. 

"  Look  here,  Marion  —  I'm  not  going  to  be 
made  any  one-ring  circus  of." 


116  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Oh,  Howard,"  she  remonstrated.  "  It  isn't 
a  cheap  show.  Three  rings  at  least.  Just  you 
wait  and  see." 

"  Look  here,"  he  repeated,  "  I'm  not  going 
to  have  her  brought  here  for  the  amusement  of 
your  family!" 

"  And  don't  forget  yours,"  she  supplemented. 

"  Yes,  and  mine,"  he  agreed. 

Marion  kicked  her  train  neatly  aside,  sat  in 
a  big  chair  and  rested  her  chin  on  her  hand. 

"  Do  you  really  think  that  it  will  amuse  them, 
Howard?"  she  asked  interestedly.  "Yes;  I 
think  it  will.  I  just  can  see  your  mother  hold 
her  sides  with  laughter,  and  as  for  dad  —  well, 
as  for  dad,  it  will  be  the  funniest  thing  dad 
ever  saw." 

"  Marion,"  he  began  in  expostulation. 

"  Do  you  think  they  would  set  foot  in  this 
house  if  they  knew  ?  "  she  asked  frankly. 

"  Well,  why  in  the  name  of  all  — " 

"  Howard,  I  don't  want  to  humiliate  you.  Of 
course  not.  And  I  have  invited  Mrs.  Blake- 
more.  I  am  not  going  to  insult  a  guest."  She 
arose  and  went  over  to  him.  "  Now,  come," 
she  coaxed,  "  you  are  all  mussed  up.  Where 


"A  HUSBAND  — TO  GIVE  AWAY"     117 

did  you  dress  ?  "     She  made  a  rapid  gesture  of 
despair.     "  Oh,  that  tie !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  What's  the  matter  with  it?  "  he  asked  test- 

iiy- 

She  said  nothing,  but  drew  him  toward  her  and 
opened  the  knot  and  began  retieing.  He  sub- 
mitted awkwardly  and  half -unwillingly. 

He  felt  quite  helpless.  He  had  felt  so  for 
days.  Cudgeling  his  brain  to  read  what  form 
of  denouement  his  wife  planned  in  the  matter 
of  her  invitation  of  Mrs.  Blakemore,  had  elicited 
no  explanation  that  seemed  the  right  one. 
When  she  announced  her  intention  of  asking 
Mrs.  Blakemore  within  her  home,  he  had  been 
incredulous.  He  was  also  sure  that  Mrs.  Blake- 
more wouldn't  come.  Yet  she  had  asked  Mrs. 
Blakemore  and  Mrs.  Blakemore  had  accepted. 
Now,  as  she  worked  at  his  tie,  he  fidgeted  phys- 
ically as  he  had  fidgeted  mentally  for  days,  and 
still  fidgeted  under  the  strain  of  moving  about 
completely  in  the  dark. 

"  Be  still,"  said  Marion  in  her  best  motherly 
fashion.  "You  act  just  like  a  rebellious  child 
having  his  face  washed  for  Sunday  School.." 
She  shook  her  head.  "  There'd  be  no  real  self- 


118  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

sacrifice,"  she  explained,  "  in  giving  another 
woman  a  chance  for  you,  if  you  didn't  look  well, 
you  know." 

She  worked  at  the  tie. 

"  You  simply  must  look  your  best,"  she  con- 
cluded. 

"  Hold  on  —  you're  choking  me ! " 

"  Must  look  — "  Marion  paused,  her  fingers 
still  at  his  throat ;  her  eyes  directly  looking  into 
his.  "  Be  terrible,  wouldn't  it,"  she  said,  "  if  she 
decided  she  didn't  want  you  after  all  this  trou- 
ble? And  how  humiliating  for  me!" 

Finishing  with  his  collar  and  tie,  she  pulled 
down  his  waistcoat,  arranged  the  set  of  the 
shoulders  of  his  coat,  and  went  on  speaking : 

"  Oh,  you  must  look  your  very  best,  you 
know,"  she  admonished. 

She  stepped  back.  Then  she  moved  forward 
and  turned  him  around.  A  curious  gentleness 
and  tenderness  at  moments  came  into  her  eyes, 
belying  the  light  whimsicality  of  her  speech. 

"  Now,"  she  enunciated  finally,  "  you  look 
good  enough  for  any  woman — "  she  chuckled, 
"  to  give  away." 

"  It's  awful  good  of  you  to  take  so  much 
trouble,"  said  Stanton  rather  blankly  fumbling 


"A  HUSBAND  — TO  GIVE  AWAY"     119 

at  his  white  bow.  "  I  never  could  tie  one  of 
the  fool  things." 

"Yes,"  assented  Marion.  "That's  how  I 
learned." 

Stanton  did  not  catch  her  meaning. 

"  I  know  you  did."  His  face  lighted.  "  I 
remember  the  first  time  you  learned." 

"Do  you?  Well  —  I — um  —  don't  recall 
exactly." 

Stanton  was  remonstrative. 

"  Surely  you  remember  one  night  your  father 
coming  into  the  room  and  it  had  to  be  tied 
quickly." 

"  Oh,"  she  declared  boastfully,  "  I'd  learned 
long  before  then.  I  used  to  tie  Oliver  Whit- 
ney's ties ! " 

"  What?  "  Stanton  asked  angrily. 

"  Besides,  Howard  Stanton,  when  you  re- 
called that  you  made  a  gesture  as  if  we  had  been 
kissing  each  other.  And  I  did  not  kiss  you." 

"  I  know  you  didn't.  That's-  how  it  came  un- 
tied. You  dodged." 

Marion  looked  away  and  flirted  her  handker- 
chief before  her  eyes. 

"  Well,"  she  observed,  "  widows  don't  dodge." 

Stanton  winced. 


120  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Anyhow,"  he  said  in  retaliation,  "  you 
didn't  always  dodge,"  and  he  nodded  at  her  in 
satisfaction. 

She  had  turned  her  back  partly  towards  him 
and  now  looked  at  him  over  her  shoulders. 

"  Humph !  "  she  said.     "  Well,  I'm  safe  now." 

Stanton  moved  involuntarily  toward  her,  hold- 
ing out  his  hands.  She  stepped  quickly  back, 
smiling  teasingly ;  and  with  mock  gestures  of 
horror  she  warded  off  his  hands. 

"  Remember  who's  coming ! "  she  cried. 
"  At  least  be  faithful  to  your  last  love !  " 

Stanton  thus  brought  to  a  check,  looked  dis- 
appointed and  annoyed. 

"  Gracious ! "  warned  his  wife,  "  what  would 
Mrs.  Blakemore  say  ?  " 

The  young  husband  caught  himself  in  the  act 
of  laughing  heartily. 

"  Hang  it,  Marion,"  he  said,  "  I  almost  for- 
got." 

"  You're  always  forgetting.  Remember  the 
night  you  kissed  me  in  the  automobile  and  for- 
got it  was  lighted?  " 

"  And  you  slapped  my  face." 

"  Of    course,    I    did.     Did    you    suppose    I 


"A  HUSBAND  — TO  GIVE  AWAY" 

wanted  to  be  kissed  in  public  like  a  Luna  Park 
belle  on  the  back  of  a  Coney  Island  steam- 
boat? " 

Stanton  drew  away,  looking  his  dainty  wife 
all  over. 

"  Gee !  we  had  good  times  in  that  car ! "  he 
said,  half  wistfully. 

She  did  not  respond.  A  twinge  of  feeling 
crossed  her  eyes. 

"  You're  always  having  good  times  in  auto- 
mobiles," she  reminded  him.  "  And  gracious ! 
Howard,  we  are  forgetting  Mrs.  Blakemore ! " 

"  O,  darn  — " 

"  What  was  that  ?  "  she  asked  but  did  not 
press  the  query.  Instead  she  asked  most  in- 
geniously another  question.  "  Howard,  do  you 
think  Mrs.  Blakemore  will  approve  of  me  ?  " 

"  Approve  of  you?  "  he  stammered.  "  Why, 
of  course." 

"  Oh,  my,  what  a  relief.  Do  you  know  that 
it  is  getting  to  be  — " 

"  Oh  " —  he  paused  angrily  and  looked  at 
his  watch.  "  They  ought  to  be  here  now." 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Marion,  "  I  am  afraid! 
I  forgot  to  tell  you." 


A  WOMAN'S  WAY 


"What?" 

"  I  invited  Mrs.  Blakemore  half  an  hour 
ahead  of  the  others." 

She  scanned  the  room  for  the  twentieth  time 
at  least. 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  it  looks  nice.  Whatever  she 
thinks  of  me,"  she  made  with  her  shoulders  a 
little  gesture  of  self  -depreciation,  "  she  must 
admit  that  I  have  trained  you  well  for  her." 
She  sighed.  "  This  is  a  dear  old  room,"  she 
continued.  "  I  quite  envy  you  the  fun  of  fixing 
it  up  all  over  again.  Is  she  good-tempered? 
She  won't  be  as  obstinate  as  I  was.  You  can 
get  just  what  you  want.  And,  —  of  course, 
you'll  have  your  new  crest?  Yes,  crossed  hearts 
above  an  automobile  rampant.  She'd  like  that, 
wouldn't  she  ?  " 

"  Oh,  stop  it,"  he  demanded. 

But  she  did  not. 

"  There  are  a  few  things,  dear,  that  I  would 
like  to  take  as  souvenirs.  That  vase  —  you 
bought  it  for  me  on  our  honeymoon.  It's 
a  tall,  hollow  vase.  It  will  remind  me  of 
you." 

"  Marion,"  he  begged,  "  have  you  no  senti- 
ment? Think  of  our  past  !  " 


"A  HUSBAND  — TO  GIVE  AWAY"     123 

"  Oh,"  she  replied.  "  I  have  no  time  to 
think  of  the  past.  I  must  think  of  the  future. 
Where  shall  I  go  to  get  my  divorce?  Rhode 
Island,  Sioux  Falls,  or  Reno  ?  " 

"  Where  is  your  sense  of  propriety, 
Marion?  "  he  put  forth  in  an  injured  manner. 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  I  don't  know,  Howard, —  lost  probably 
where  you  lost  yours  —  automobiling." 

And  just  then  the  door-bell  rang. 

"  Mrs.  Blakemore !'  Goodness ! "  she  ex- 
claimed drawing"  back  from  him.  In  sudden 
panic,  she  fumbled  with  her  hair.  "  I  know  I 
look  a  fright !  I'll  —  I'll  just  run  away  a  min- 
ute." 

But  at  the  doorway  she  stopped.  Her  eyes 
glinted  as  she  said: 

"  You  won't  really  mind  my  going,  of  course. 
And  —  and  what  would  she  think  if  she  caught 
us  alone  together." 

Stanton  looked  after  her  in  dazed  fashion. 
But  of  a  sudden  he  fell  to  straightening  his  tie 
(as  he  believed)  and  otherwise  preen-  and  primp 
himself  for  the  advent  of  Mrs.  Blakemore. 
Presently  the  monotonous  voice  of  Wilson  an- 
nounced the  momentous  guest  of  the  evening. 


CHAPTER  XII 

"  A    HOLY    SHOW  " 

WHEN  Mrs.  Blakemore  moved  Into  the 
room,  her  long,  fine  figure  shown  to 
superb  advantage  by  the  close-fitting  maroon 
silk  gown  that  she  wore  and  with  jewels  glitter- 
ing at  her  corsage  and  sparkling  in  her  dusky, 
black-hair;  there  disappeared  from  her  counte- 
nance the  captivating  smile  which  had  at  first 
illumined  her  lips.  The  expression  gave  way  to 
surprise  as  she  saw  Stanton  standing  in  the  big 
room  with  no  other  guests  near  him,  his  wife 
absent,  himself  altogether  alone.  She  moved 
forward  slowly  with  a  hint  of  a  characteristic 
indolence  that  men  found  to  be  fascinating  in 
her,  and  extended  her  hand  to  Stanton  who, 
flurried  and  altogether  at  sea  mentally  as  re- 
gards the  proper  playing  of  his  part  in  the 
extraordinary  comedy  of  his  wife's  making, 
stepped  forward  to  greet  her. 

He  was  undergoing  genuine  qualms  of  dis- 


«  A  HOLY  SHOW  "  125 

may,  fears  of  the  developments  that  might  come 
and  a  larger  fear  for  Marion's  sake.  Though 
no  analytical,  keen  judge  of  persons,  he  had, 
however,  known  the  widow  sufficiently  well  to 
understand  that  beneath  her  exterior  of  indo- 
lence lurked  an  enormous  reservoir  of  emotional 
strength;  that  moved  sufficiently  by  anger,  dis- 
appointment or  chagrin;  conventions  and  even 
laws  would  prove  but  tissue  paper  barriers  to 
her  actions.  He  realized!  that  she  with  her 
flashing  black  eyes  and  crimson,  wilful  mouth 
was  a  most  dangerous  woman  to  offend.  In 
his  own  mind  he  felt  disconcertingly  that  little 
Marion  was  playing  with  fire,  or  what  was  a 
better  simile,  he  told  himself,  she  was  recklessly 
prodding  a  tigress  and  an  uncaged  tigress  at 
that. 

"  Charming  as  usual,  Mrs.  Blakemore,"  he 
said  formally,  conscious  of  the  butler's  pres- 
ence, as  he  shook  hands  with  her.  And  then  in 
a  lower  key :  "  It's  great  to  see  you  again." 

Wilson,  stolid  in  body  and  mind,  had  the  al- 
most maniacally  mean  curiosity  that  reigns  in 
the  servants'  hall,  in  regard  to  the  doings 
of  those  whose  bread  they  eat.  If  Wilson  had 
kept  a  diary  no>  little  incident  of  the  present 


126  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

family  affair  would  have  been  missing  from  its 
pages.  And  he  did  not  mean  to  allow  this 
one,  as  choice  an  incident  as  any  that  had 
gone  before  and  might  happen,  to  escape  him. 
He  did  not  therefore,  take  himself  out  of  the 
room  but  lingered,  doing  divers  unnecessary 
things  with  the  curtains  and  other  articles  of 
furniture,  doing  these  things  silently,  unob- 
trusively and  far  enough  away  to  escape  at- 
tention but  with  straining  ears  in  his  head  the 
while. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  scanned  the  room  with  lifted 
eyebrows. 

"  I  fear  I  am  very  early,"  she  said.  "  Mrs. 
Stanton  — " 

"  Mrs.  Stanton  will  be  down  directly,"  he 
hastened  to  assure  her.  "  She  —  is  — " 

The  widow  looked  at  him  with  significance  in 
her  brilliant  black  eyes. 

"  Arming  for  the  fray  ?  "  she  queried. 

Wilson  did  that  then  for  which  he  could  never 
afterwards  pardon  himself.  He  gasped. 

His  young  master's  glance  struck  him 
sternly. 

"  That's  all  right,  Wilson." 

"  Yes,  sir,"   said  the  butler  humbly.     Dan- 


«  A  HOLY  SHOW  "  127 

gerous  as  it  was,  he  yet  did  not  leave  the  room. 
His  curiosity  clutched  him  by  the  neck  as  it 
were  and  led  him  softly  across  the  room  to 
perform  delusionary  services  at  the  fire-place. 
There  was  a  blank  silence  in  the  room  attending 
him. 

"  There's  nothing  the  matter  with  that  either, 
Wilson,"  struck  sharply  on  his  ears. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

He  straightened.  He  looked  desperately 
around  the  room,  seeking  some  other  excuse  for 
staying. 

"  Wilson,"  came  Stanton's  voice  brusquely. 
"  Tell  Mrs.  Stanton  that  Mrs.  Blakemore  has 
arrived." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

And  this  time,  slowly,  reluctantly,  Wilson  did 
leave  the  room. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  had  ensconced  herself  most 
gracefully  on  the  big,  comfortable  sofa. 

"  What  a  perfect  servant,"  she  observed. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  excellent." 

"  Yes,"  she  commented,  "  I'll  wager  he  knows 
every  time  you  say  your  prayers." 

He  laughed.  And  then  he  walked  over  and 
looked  down  at  her  warmly. 


128  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  You  do  look  bully  to-night,  Puss,"  he  said 
eagerly. 

"  You  silly  boy,"  she  said.  "  Do  you  think 
I  should  have  come  otherwise?  " 

Lazily,  encouragingly  sensual  was  her  man- 
ner toward  him  whenever  she  spoke,  regardless 
of  just  what  the  purpose  of  her  talk  might  be. 
There  was  a  halt  in  their  conversation  the 
while  they  eyed  each  other  softly,  Stanton's 
handsome  face  looked  boyishly  susceptible  in  its 
entrancement. 

"  Do  you  think  Mrs.  Stanton  will  like  me, 
Howard?  "  she  asked,  gently  lifting  her  long- 
lashed  eyelids. 

Stanton,  nonplused  by  the  directness  of  this 
speech,  sought  for  himself  a  chair,  sat  in  it, 
and  waveringly  replied: 

"  Er  —  ah  —  I  don't  see     .     .     ." 

She  did  not  wait  for  the  conclusion  of  the 
reply. 

"  Where  have  you  been  keeping  yourself?  " 
she  cut  in  reproachfully.  "  What  have  you 
been  doing?  One  whole  week? "  she  lowered 
her  eyes.  "  It  isn't  exactly  fair,"  she  con- 
tinued, "  to  make  yourself  essential  and  then  — 


«A  HOLY  SHOW"  129 

pouf ! "  she  drew  prettily  through  her  red  lips, 
"  disappear !  Besides,"  she  laughed,  "  I've  been 
dying  of  curiosity  to  say  the  least." 

Stanton  tried  to  tell  himself  that  he  should 
not  feel  pleased.  But  he  was  nevertheless. 

"  I  didn't  realize  that  I  was  so  altogether  es- 
sential," he  said. 

With  eyes  intentionally  contradicting  herself, 
she  answered; 

"  Perhaps  you're  not."  Then  softly,  with  a 
glance  around  for  a  possible  Wilson,  "  It  was 
your  wife  I  wished  to  know  about." 

"  Oh,  my  wife,"  he  said  coldly  and  dampened, 
his  conscience  rearing  anew.  "  She's  all  right." 

Then  she  went  back  to  her  former  question. 

"  Howard,  do  you  think  Mrs.  Stanton  will 
like  me?  " 

The  widow  found  his  nods  easy  to  read  and 
she  dropped  quickly  the  subject  of  his  wife. 

"  You  do  look  handsome  tonight,  Howard," 
she  said  musically.  "  I  have  always  thought 
that  you  were  about  the  best  looking  man  I  ever 
saw  in  evening  clothes  ....  always  immacu- 
late." 

She  looked  him  over. 


130  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  But  that  tie ! "  she  exclaimed  suddenly. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  it,"  he  asked  and 
fumbled  at  it. 

"  Oh,"  she  said  with  an  impatient  gesture,  sin- 
uously arising,  coming  toward  him.  He  arose 
but  her  hands  were  laid  upon  his  hands.  He 
dropped  his  arms  and  submitted. 

"  No  —  no,"  she  had  said,  "  you  make  it 
worse,  if  possible.  You  do  need  a  woman. 
Now  —  now  let  me." 

And  as  her  fingers  lightly  wove  and  twisted 
where  such  a  little  while  before  Marion's  fingers 
had  lightly  woven  and  twisted,  Wilson  appear- 
ing at  the  door,  was  thrilled.  He  knew  his 
duty,  however.  He  coughed.  He  had  the  sat- 
isfaction of  beholding  his  master  and  Mrs. 
Blackmore  draw  guiltily  apart. 

"  Mrs.  Stanton  desires  me  to  say  that  she  will 
be  down  at  once,  sir." 

Stanton's  hand  was  over  his  tie,  and  ludi- 
crously held  there. 

"  Very  well,  Wilson." 

Nor  did  he  take  his  eye  off  the  man  until 
Wilson  had  entirely  disappeared. 

Stanton's  hand  came  down.     It  was  no  won- 


"  A  HOLY  SHOW  "  131 

der  he  had  held  it  there.  Mrs.  Blakemore's  self- 
appointed  task  was  only  half  finished.  The 
scarf  drooped  in  two  streamers,  altogether  un- 
tied. 

"  Please  —  quick,"  he  called  to  her  desper- 
ately, his  eye  fearfully  on  the  door  through 
which  his  wife  would  enter.  She  did  the  work 
hastily.  "  Thanks,"  he  said  in  relief  as  it  was 
done. 

She  stood  back. 

"  It  takes  a  woman  to  really  tie  a  tie.  That's 
splendid." 

He  did  not  enlighten  her. 

"  Polly  and  I've  have  missed  you  terribly," 
she  said.  "  Poor  little  Jim.  He  whines  about 
the  house  and!  will  hardly  eat  anything." 

"  Good  old  Jimmy,"  he  laughed.  "  But  you 
see  —  I've  —  I've  been  —  very  —  very  —  busy 
lately." 

"  Too  busy  to  think  of  me?  " 

"  I  should  hope  not.  Why,"  he  added  with 
enthusiasm,  "  it's  wonderful  how  congenial  you 
and  I  are." 

"  I  don't  know,  Howard.  I've  met  lots  of 
people  but  you  are  the  squarest  and  best  fellow 


A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

of  them  all.  I  think  at  heart,"  she  continued 
sincerely,  "  you  are  on  the  level.  I  reckon 
that's  why  I  like  you." 

"  We  do  think  the  same  about  most  things," 
he  chimed  pleasantly. 

She  shook  her  finger. 

"  Don't  forget  our  one  difference." 

He  waved  his  hand  impatiently. 

"  So  long  as  you  are  married,"  she  said  re- 
luctantly, gently  and  firmly,  "  you  owe  a 
duty  — " 

He  repeated  the  impatient  gesture. 

"  Oh,"  he  said  in  remonstrance. 

"  There  will  be  an  action  ?  "  she  hazarded. 

"  I  can't  let  you  be  involved,"  he  asserted. 

"  Some  of  her  friends  have  seen  us  together." 

"  Yes." 

She  looked  at  him  shyly. 

"  It  must  have  been  a  terrible  scene,"  she 
observed.  "  Really,  Howard,  before  this  came 
up,  I  never  properly  appreciated  your  strength 
of  character.  I  apologized  when  that  invita- 
tion came  —  why  little  Elizabeth  —  Puss  — 
just  put  down  her  coffee  cup" —  she  acted  the 
intimate  little  scene  as  she  spoke,  and  said; 


"  A  HOLY  SHOW  "  133 

"  Elizabeth,  you  are  flabbergasted,  you  have 
cruelly  misjudged  a  remarkable  young  man." 
She  put  her  hand  out  and  rested  it  on  his  arm. 
"  Honestly,  my  friend,  how  under  heaven  did 
you  induce  her  to  invite  me  to  come  up  ?  " 

"  Induce  her?  "  He  looked  at  her  queerly. 
"  I  couldn't  stop  her,"  he  blurted. 

"  Then  she  knows  ?  "  she  demanded,  startled. 

"  Yes." 

He  nodded  his  head  in  fearsome  affirmation. 

She  was  on  her  feet.  Her  eyes  scanned  him 
angrily,  scornfully. 

"  What?  And  you  let  me  come  without 
knowing." 

"  Er  —  yes  —  yes,"  he  was  forced  to  admit. 

"  How  dare  you  do  a  thing  like  that  ?  " 

"  Well  —  er  —  you  have  often  said,  you 
know,  that  you  would  like  to  be  asked  here,"  he 
fenced. 

"  I  —  asked  —  well  really,"  she  said  bitterly. 
"  Howard  Stanton,  I'm  not  going  to  be  made  a 
one-ringed  circus  of — " 

"  No  —  no,"  he  replied  equally  bitter,  "  a 
three-ring  circus,  at  least.  She  —  you  —  and 
I." 


134  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Indeed,"  she  exclaimed,  acridly.  "  A  holy 
show !  Now,  I  want  to  tell  you  Howard  Stan- 
ton  — " 

But  she  stopped  for  she  beheld  Stanton's  eyes 
fixed  tragically  on  the  doorway  and  turning  her 
own  gaze  in  that  direction,  beheld  the  small, 
slender  woman  whom  she  knew  must  be  Howard 
Stanton's  wife. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE   WIFE'S   VERSION 

WITH  his  wife  and  the  other  woman  stand- 
ing together  before  him  for  the  first 
time  and  virtually  for  comparison,  Howard 
Stanton  saw  his  wife  largely  with  the  advantage 
on  her  side.  The  surprise  of  her  entrance  had 
almost  betrayed  the  graceful,  beautiful  widow 
into  an  awkward  attitude,  and  though  Mrs. 
Blakemore  had  come  with  her  nerves  fully  in 
control,  to  go  through  this  very  meeting,  the 
moment  when  it  came  had  caught  her  off  poise. 

Markedly  different  were  the  women;  the 
widow  tall  and  dark  haired,  and  black-eyed  and 
clad  in  warm  and  vivid  colorings  of  silk ;  Marion 
white,  delicately  pink-tinted,  her  head  golden, 
her  figure  slender,  deftly  turned,  exquisitely 
lithe  in  its  faultlessly  fitting  costume  of  pale 
blue  silk. 

Still  Marion  held  the  upper  hand  as  she 
135 


136  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

easily  came  forward  unruffled  and  with  aplomb, 
extended  her  hand. 

"  I  am  sure,"  she  said  in  meaningful  tones, 
"  that  this  is  Mrs.  Blakemore?  " 

The  widow  was  no  social  tyro.  Her  poise 
was  almost  instantly  regained. 

"  Mrs.  Stanton,"  she  smiled. 

"  So  charming  of  you,"  Marion  smiled  gra- 
ciously back  at  her,  "  to  overlook  the  inform- 
ality of  my  invitation  and  let  me  presume  on 
your  friendship  for  Mr.  Stanton." 

Mrs.  Blakemore  bowed  slightly. 

"  It  is  really  remarkable,"  she  observed,  "  that 
we  have  not  met  before.  I  am  sure  that  we  must 
have  mutual  friends." 

"  Yes,"  Marion's  tone  was  altogether  sweet 
and  easy.  "  I  have  a  number  of  friends  in 
the  West  now  —  Sioux  Falls  and  Reno.  Prob- 
ably you've  met  them  ?  " 

Mrs.  Blakemore  did  nothing  so  obvious  as 
biting  her  lip.  But  she  nearly  did  it. 

"  No,"  she  returned  evenly.  "  I'm  from  the 
South." 

"  How  delightful !  And  —  we  have  met  at 
last!" 

"  Yes,  indeed.     I've  looked  forward  to  it." 


THE  WIFE'S  VERSION  137 

The  atmosphere  had  grown  psychically 
leaden.  They  all  felt  it.  Stanton  put  in 
clumsily : 

"Ah  —  then  —  then  we  all  ought  to  be 
pleased." 

His  wife  gave  him  no  glance.  Her  eyes  were 
entirely  on  Mrs.  Blakemore. 

"  Yes ;  and  I  wished  very  much  to  meet  you 
Mrs.  Blakemore  for  I  felt  that  I  owed  you  an 
apology." 

"  Apology  ? "  exclaimed  the  astounded 
woman.  "  To  me?  " 

"  Why  yes.  I  owe  you  an  apology  for  even 
allowing  you  to  go  out  with  Mr.  Stanton  in 
that  automobile  when  I  knew  that  tire  was  weak 
and  how  recklessly  he  drives.  Had  you  been 
killed  I  would  never  have  forgiven  myself." 

They  both  stared  at  her. 

"  No  —  er,  yes  —  no  —  er  —  you  —  well 
you  never  can  tell  what  will  be  the  result  of  a 
trip  in  an  automobile,  can  you?  "  babbled  Stan- 
ton. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  gulped. 

"  You  never  can,"  she  answered.  And  it  was 
from  the  bottom  of  her  heart. 

"  I    think,    Howard,"    said    Marion    gently, 


138  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  you  should  have  warned  Mrs.  Blakemore  what 
the  result  might  be." 

Stanton  was  floundering. 

"  Marion !  "  he  cried  helplessly. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  with  the  present  result  strik- 
ingly before  her,  turned  on  Stanton,  declaring 
significantly : 

"  You  should.     Why  didn't  you?  " 

He  turned  to  look  at  her ;  and  then  at  Marion ; 
his  eyes  all  confused. 

"Oh,— I—,"  he  blurted,  "How  could  I 
know?" 

Marion  laughed  across  at  Mrs.  Blakemore. 

"  I  think  we  had  both  better  forgive  him,"  she 
said. 

"  Well  —  it's  generous,"  said  Mrs.  Blakemore. 

"  Oh,  no  —  not  for  me.  I'm  merely  stand- 
ing up  for  my  rights ;  forgiving  is  the  preroga- 
tive a  wife  never  loses." 

Stanton  tried  to  wade  back  effectively  into 
things. 

"  I  don't  like  that  speech,  Marion,"  he  said 
peevishly.  "  Of  course,  it's  a  joke  but  it  doesn't 
sound  exactly  right.  It  sounds  as  though  — 
well,  as  though  you  had  something  to  forgive." 


THE  WIFE'S  VERSION          139 

"  Oh,"  she  said  soothingly.  "  I  am  sure  Mrs. 
Blakemore  understands." 

"  I  think  misunderstandings  are  terrible 
things,"  the  widow  hastened  to  say.  She  looked 
keenly  at  Marion.  "  I  have  found  that  the  best 
way  to  avoid  them  is  absolute  frankness  —  ab- 
solute frankness.  My  friends  know  just  how 
to  take  me." 

"  Do  they  all  take  you  in  the  same  way  ?  " 
asked  Marion  with  a  naive  surprise  that  stung 
hard,  "  if  they  do  I'm  sure  I  know  you  very  well 
indeed,  for  Mr.  Stanton  has  spoken  so  much  of 
the  charming  Mrs.  Blakemore.  Yes,  very  often 
indeed." 

"  Oh,  you  have  been  talking  about  me,  have 
you  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Blakemore  of  Stanton,  and 
against  her  will  a  tinge  of  anger  colored  her 
voice. 

"  Oh  —  er  —  ah  —  oh  —  yes  —  yes  —  sure," 
he  stammered  caught  again  between  the  crossing 
blades. 

"  What  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  What  did  I  say  ?  Oh,  I  said  you  were  —  er 
—  what  —  er  — ,"  he  stopped,  grinning  fatu- 
ously. Then  he  flashed  inspirationally  at  her: 
"  What  do  you  think  I  said?  " 


140  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  The  Lord  only  knows,"  she  retorted  fever- 
ishly. 

He  was  angry  at  that.  He  sought  self -justi- 
fication through  his  wife. 

"  What  did  I  say,  Marion  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Well,  Howard,  you  were  sufficiently  en- 
thusiastic to  make  me  very  anxious  to  meet  Mrs. 
Blakemore." 

"  You  must  have  received  a  very  graphic 
picture,"  inserted  Mrs.  Blakemore.  "  Mrs. 
Stanton,  I  have  always  admired  Mr.  Stanton's 
powers  of  description  and  explanation." 

Again  Stanton  stumbled. 

"  Yes ;  I  can  explain  anything." 

He  quailed  under  the  Southern  woman's 
transfixing  look.  He  was  left  stammering: 
"  Er  —  ah  —  that  is  — ." 

Mrs.  Blakemore  went  to  his  rescue. 

"  It  was  very  good  of  you  to  invite  me  this 
evening,  Mrs.  Stanton,"  she  said. 

"  No,  indeed,  Mrs.  Blakemore,"  answered  her 
hostess  quickly,  "  I  have  always  felt  it  should 
be  a  wife's  duty  as  well  as  a  pleasure  to  be  in- 
troduced to  her  husband's  friends." 

And  still  Stanton  persisted  in  an  effort  to 
grace  the  occasion. 


THE  WIFE'S  VERSION         •  141 

"  It  rather  reverses  the  old  saying  '  like  me, 
like  my  dog,'  "  he  began.  Both  women  took  a 
sharp  breath.  "  No ;  I  mean,  like  my  dog,  like 
me."  He  stopped,  worse  off  than  ever.  "  No 
—  it's  like  — it's  like  —  er,  what  the  deuce  is  it 
like?" 

As  his  wife  had  done,  Mrs.  Blakemore  now  ig- 
nored him. 

"  It  is  really  charming,  Mrs.  Stanton,  your 
inviting  me  —  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land." 

"  A  stranger?  "  questioned  Marion.  "  Why, 
Howard,  I  thought  Mrs.  Blakemore  was  the 
lady  I  saw  you  with  six  months  ago  at  Rec- 
tor's?" 

"  What  ?  "  demanded  the  astonished  Stanton. 
"  Six  months  ago  !  You !  No  !  You  did  not 
see  me  with  any  lady  six  months  ago !  " 

"  Indeed,  I  did,  dear,"  Marion  persisted. 
But  then  she  raised  her  hands.  "  Oh,  how 
stupid  of  me!  Of  course,  that  lady  was  a 
blonde.  And,  of  course,"  she  turned  apolo- 
getically to  the  widow ;  "  It  couldn't  have  been 
you?" 

Mrs.  Blakemore  haughtily  touched  her  own 
head,  clothed  so  abundantly  in  its  natural  sable 
coiffure. 


A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Of  course  it  couldn't,"  she  said. 

Marion  trimmed  her  sails  anew. 

"  Do  tell  me  about  the  unfortunate  automo- 
bile accident.  I'm  dying  of  curiosity  ever 
since  I  saw  it  in  the  newspapers."  She  looked 
merrily  at  Mrs.  Blakemore.  "  Howard  never 
would  tell  me,  you  know.  How  did  it  occur?  " 

Blankly  the  other  two  looked  at  each  other, 
or  at  least  whatever  expression  there  was  in  the 
eyes  of  Stanton  and  Mrs.  Blakemore  became 
that  of  horror. 

Little  Mrs.  Stanton  had  found  a  seat  between 
them  and  she  motioned  Howard  to  a  chair.  The 
widow  had  resumed  her  place  on  the  sofa.  The 
wife  now  looked  from  'one  to  the  other ;  her  air 
that  of  strained  attention,  anticipatory  of  hear- 
ing the  most  thrilling  details. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  decided  that  Howard  looked 
absurdly  guilty  and  coughed  by  way  of  warn- 
ing. But  she  herself  looked  very  little  more  at 
ease. 

"  Why  don't  you  tell?  "  said  the  widow  flatly 
to  Stanton.  There  was  also  a  challenge  in  her 
voice. 

"  Er  —  ah  —  you  see."  That  was  as  far  as 
he  got.  Then  he  slipped  out  of  the  noose. 


THE  WIFE'S  VERSION 


"  Oh,  you  tell  it,  Mrs.  Blakemore,"  he  said. 
"  You  know  you  tell  a  story  so  much  better  than 
I  do." 

"  Yes,"  said  Marion  quickly,  "  you  tell  it, 
Mrs.  Blakemore.  "  I'm  sure  you're  a  much  bet- 
ter story  teller  than  Howard  is."  She  was  dul- 
cet to  the  limit. 

"I  —  I  —  "  it  was  plain  that  the  widow's 
nerves  were  beginning  to  play  her  tricks  ;  "  I've 
never  achieved  any  reputation  as  a  story  teller." 

"  No  —  really?  "  from  Marion,  incredulously. 

"  Oh,  it  wasn't  anything,  Marion,"  interjected 
Stanton. 

"  Not  anything  at  all,"  said  Mrs.  Blakemore, 
for  the  first  time  availing  herself  of  a  possible 
cue  from  him. 

"  Oh,  you  are  wrong,  I  know  you  are.  I've 
never  seen  such  modest  people.  Here  you  go 
through  a  thrilling  adventure  that  set  all  New 
York  by  the  ears  and  get  columns  and  columns 
printed  about  you  in  the  newspapers  and  then 
you  say  it  isn't  anything  at  all.  Why,  I'm 
ashamed  of  you.  Why,"  she  said,  her  eyes 
brightening,  "  I  believe  I  could  tell  it  myself  !  " 

"  Go  ahead  and  tell  it,  then,"  said  Stanton 
sullenly. 


144  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Your  version  would  be  interesting,  Mrs. 
Stanton,"  joined  in  the  widow  lightly. 

"  Ah  —  well  then, —  let  me  see.  Of  course, 
you  had  dinner  —  that  little  roadhouse  —  you 
know,  the  one  on  the  left-hand  side  when  you 
leave  New  Haven.  And  you  sat  at  that  far-off 
little  table  in  the  corner  with  the  vines  around  it." 

"  Why,  how  did  you  know  we  sat  there  ?  " 
Mrs.  Blakemore  instantly  realized  that  her  sur- 
prise had  been  tactless. 

"  Oh,  that's  where  Howard  always  sits,"  said 
Marion  cheerily. 

"Indeed!" 

"  And,"  continued  Marion,  moving  forward 
in  her  chair  and  bringing  her  hands  and  arms 
into  play.  "  And  now  you  have  left  the  place. 
Five  —  six  miles,  with  the  speed  increasing  every 
second.  Now,  you've  passed  the  fifty  an  hour." 

It  was  vividly  true,  this  first  outline,  so  much 
so  that  Stanton  and  Mrs.  Blakemore  were  over- 
whelmed at  her  handling  of  the  situation. 

"  Nothing  on  the  road  can  hold  you,"  con- 
tinued the  little  woman,  her  eyes  lively,  her  voice 
rising.  "  Down  you  go  —  down  that  long  hill 
—  on  two  wheels.  You  are  both  laughing ; 
laughing  with  the  joy  of  being  together  and  the 


THE  WIFE'S  VERSION         145 

glory  of  the  evening  sun  is  on  you  and  the  mad- 
ness of  flying  —  of  living !  And  then  you  for- 
get everything.  And  then  Howard  leans  to- 
ward you  — " 

Mrs.  Blakemore  started. 

"  How  do  you  know  he  leaned?  " 

"  Oh,  Howard  always  leans  in  automobiles.'* 

"  Marion ! " 

"  Oh,"  said  Mrs.  Blakemore  thoughtfully. 

"  Then  came  the  crash  and  the  darkness. 
And  when  you  came  to  — "  she  stopped  and 
asked  brightly :  "  Which  of  you  came  to  first?  " 

"  Er  —  I  don't  remember,"  said  Stanton. 

"  I  know  I  did,"  volunteered  the  widow. 

Marion  clapped  her  hands. 

"  Good,  I  knew  you  did.  I  was  sure  of  it." 
She  put  out  her  hand  towards  Mrs.  Blakemore's 
knee.  "  Howard  always  comes  to  his  senses 
last,"  she  explained. 

"  Oh,  does  he?  "  The  widow  had  not  meant 
the  observation  to  be  spoken  tartly,  but  what  she 
meant  to  do  and  what  her  indignation  made  her 
do  were  at  odds.  "  I  must  really  congratulate 
you,  Mrs.  Stanton,  on  your  splendid  descrip- 
tion. It's  almost  as  though  you  had  been  there 
yourself." 


146  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Don't  mention  it,"  replied  Marion  very  po- 
litely. "But  I  must  not  take  too  much  credit. 
When  one  has  a  husband  with  the  automobile 
habit  one  gets  a  good  general  impression." 

"  Beg  pardon,"  announced  Wilson  at  the 
door.  "  But  Mr.  Morris  is  on  the  upstairs 
'phone." 

Stanton  bolted  to  his  feet.  "  Morris  — 
good !  "  said  he. 

"Howard!" 

"  Er  —  no,  I  didn't  mean  that.  I  —  I've 
been  waiting  for  that  'phone  message  for  some 
time.  If  you'll  excuse  me,  I'll  be  back  when  the 
others  have  arrived." 

His  abandonment  of  Mrs.  Blakemore  was 
complete ;  his  haste  to  leave  the  room  ludicrous. 
Mrs.  Blakemore  was1  not  sorry.  As  an  ally 
in  battle  he  had  proved  only  half-hearted  and 
wretchedly  clumsy  and  stupid.  She  felt 
stronger,  more  capable  than  ever  now  that  he 
had  gone.  And  over  the  light  manner  of  the 
two  women  there  came  the  substitution  of  a 
subtle  change.  They  were  as  skirmishers  who, 
dodging  behind  trees,  had  suddenly  come  face  to 
face  upon  each  other  in  the  open.  It  would  be 
a  direct  fight  now. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A  MUTUAL  FKIEND 

IF  anybody  had  told  Mr.  Oliver  Whitney  that 
on  this  evening  as  he  went  to  keep  a  dinner 
appointment  at  the  Stantons'  that  he  would 
meet  there  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Blakemore,  the  ur- 
bane and  well-known  young  New  York  bach- 
elor would  in  all  probability  have  suavely  asked 
his  informant  to  wait  a  few  minutes  while  he 
went  out  to  telephone  the  nearest  insanity  expert 
to  the  effect  that  his  services  were  needed  for  a 
strangely  deluded  person. 

Oliver  Whitney  knew  both  Mrs.  Blakemore 
and  Mrs.  Stanton.  He  had  known  Mrs.  Blake- 
more to  his  amusement.  He  had  known  Marion 
Stanton  to  his  sorrow  —  yet  even  the  sorrow 
that  grew  out  of  his  acquaintance  with  her  was 
possessed  of  a  certain  sweetness  and  tenderness. 

Whitney  was  a  year  or  two  on  the  youthful 
side  of  forty  now  and  mellowness  had  toned  the 
disappointment  which  had  once  been  an  agony 
147 


148  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

with  him.  For  he  had  loved  Marion  Stanton 
for  eight  years.  He  had  loved  her,  indeed,  since 
she  had  been  the  merest  girl.  Her  very  youth 
caused  him  to  hold  silence  for  several  years  and 
after  that  there  had  grown  up  between  them  an 
acquaintance  and  an  affection  on  her  side  that 
very  much  against  his  will  and  efforts,  Whitney 
realized  had  only  developed  into  a  "  brother  and 
sister  "  affair. 

He  made  his  proposal,  received  the  gentlest 
rejection  that  a  man  perhaps  ever  received,  and 
had  gone  on  loving  Marion  Livingston  just  the 
same.  Easy,  affable,  and  with  even  a  reputa- 
tion for  gaiety,  Whitney  nevertheless  lived  a  life 
that  had  its  hours  of  great  loneliness,  though 
none  ever  suspected  it,  as  he  fully  meant  they 
should  not.  In  going  to  the  Stantons'  this 
evening,  he  was  altogether  unaware  that  Mrs. 
Blakemore  was  to  be  the  guest  of  honor.  Only 
Mrs.  Blakemore's  invitation,  in  fact,  had  con- 
veyed this  information.  Other  invitations  had 
Marion  sent  out.  And  these  contained  no  more 
enlightenment  than  did  his.  She  had  her  reason 
for  this.  It  was  an  integral  part  of  the  plan 
she  had  formulated  for  the  defeat  of  her  rival. 

Mrs.  Blakemore,  alive  to  a  strange  situation, 


A  MUTUAL  FRIEND  149 

was  not  disconcerted  when  Howard  Stanton  and 
she  faced  Marion  Stanton  alone.  It  took  ex- 
traordinary moments  to  spur  her  on  to  her  best 
efforts  of  wit  and  will.  She  rather  relished  now 
the  duel  that  was  on  hand,  feeling  more  or  less 
secure  from  the  danger  of  any  outright  unpleas- 
antness by  the  fact  that  she  was  a  guest  in  Mrs. 
Stanton's  house.  And  Marion,  small  and 
blonde,  and  girlish,  did  not  look  dangerous, 
though  Mrs.  Blakemore  was  bound  to  admit  that 
such  blades  of  her  steel  as  had  been  disclosed 
had  proved  to  be  of  fine  temper. 

Mrs.  Blakemore,  having  laughed  easily  at 
Stanton's  departure,  took  up  the  cudgels  con- 
fidently. 

"  Now  we  can  have  a  real  chat,"  she  said,  be- 
ing pleasantly  emphatic. 

Marion  was  not  nearly  so  composed.  It  was, 
after  all,  the  battle  of  a  novice  and  an  old  cam- 
paigner. Mrs.  Stanton,  sure  of  the  merit  of  her 
weapons,  was  yet  a  little  awkward  about  bring- 
ing them  into  play. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  merely  in  reply  to  the  widow's 
announcement  that  the  time  for  a  real  chat  was 
at  hand. 

"  I  think,  Mrs.  Stanton,"  the  sensuous,  beau- 


150  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

tiful  woman  resumed,  "  you  and  I  should  be- 
come good  friends.  We  probably  have  interests 
in  common." 

"  We  probably  have,"  countered  the  little 
woman  meekly. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  moved  forward. 

"  Let  us  be  frank,  you  and  I,"  she  smiled. 
"  Mr.  Stanton  has  told  me  that  you  invited  me 
of  your  own  free  will.  I  appreciate  that.  I 
know  why." 

"Yes?" 

The  coolness  and  quiet  of  Mrs.  Stanton's 
defense  was  not  to  the  widow's  liking.  It  net- 
tled her  somewhat. 

"  Won't  you  be  frank,  also,"  she  returned. 
"  You  knew  about  that  unfortunate  automobile 
accident.  You  knew  the  truth  about  it.  You 
saw  those  contemptible,  lying  stories  in  the  pa- 
pers. You  knew  there  was  some  gossip.  Your 
pride  was  aroused.  You  were  afraid  something 
might  be  definitely  fixed.  You  determined  to 
forestall  everything  by  inviting  me  here.  You 
planned  a  bold,  a  brilliant  coup.  I  congratu- 
late you." 

"  I  knew  you  did  not  in  the  least  understand, 
Mrs.  Blakemore,"  said  Marion  quietly. 


A  MUTUAL  FRIEND  151 

They  sat  in  a  silence  that  was  tense  and  pain- 
ful to  the  widow. 

"  Then  you  mean  — "  she  began  slowly  and 
incredulously. 

"  I  have  been  very  anxious  to  meet  the  woman 
who  was  becoming  such  a  close  friend  of  my 
husband,"  interjected  Marion. 

"Why,  Mrs.  Stanton?  " 

Marion  arose.  The  first  nervousness  of  en- 
counter was  quite  gone. 

"  I  don't  wish  to  seem  discourteous  while  you 
are  in  my  house,"  the  wife  continued,  "  but  I 
am  glad  the  explanation  has  been  forced.  I 
know  all  about  this  —  this  friendship.  I  can 
guess  what  you  think.  I  know  what  he  thinks. 
And  I've  invited  you  here  — " 

"  Mr.  Oliver  Whitney,"  called  Wilson,  at  the 
center  door. 

And  Mr.  Oliver  Whitney,  whose  thirty-nine 
years  had  not  been  without  surprises,  not  with- 
out seeing  strange  things  happen  strangely  in 
strange  places,  was  tumbled  completely  out  of 
his  well-bred  calm,  as,  following  Wilson,  he  stood 
eyeing  Marion  and  the  famous  Southern  beauty, 
standing  together  in  an  apparently  polite  and 
amiable  meeting. 


152  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Oliver,"  said  Marion  with  quick  cordiality, 
and  in  a  tone  of  pleasantry  which  in  its  sincer- 
ity marked  unintentionally,  but  very  plainly,  a 
difference  with  the  other  tones  of  pleasantry  she 
had  used  in  her  talk  with  Mrs.  Blakemore. 

"  How  are  you  both  ?  "  said  Whitney  with  a 
quick  grasp  of  himself.  "  This  is  bully !  " 

"  Wilson,  tell  Mr.  Stanton  Mr.  Whitney  has 
arrived,"  instructed  Marion. 

"  Hope  I'm  not  late,"  Whitney  said,  to  keep 
the  talk  going  easily.  "  You  know  my  failing." 

"  One  should  always  be  late  for  a  family  din- 
ner," smiled  Marion.  "  To  be  on  time  does  not 
show  proper  intimacy." 

In  spite  of  himself  Whitney  glanced  quickly 
toward  Mrs.  Blakemore,  or  rather  toward  her 
feet,  as  he  repeated  quizzically: 

"  Family  dinner?  " 

"  Yes ;  the  families  and  you  and  —  and  I  see 
you  already  know  Mrs.  Blakemore." 

The  situation  was  striking  in  hard  at  Whit- 
ney's sense  of  humor. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  replied.     "  It  is  delightful." 

In  the  time  it  took  Mrs.  Blakemore  to  resume 
her  chair,  she  had  also  taken  on  her  old  non- 
chalance. 


A  MUTUAL  FRIEND  153 

"  Yes,"  she  observed.  "  Oliver  and  I  are  very 
old  and  dear  friends.  Don't  you  remember  the 
last  time  I  saw  you,  Oliver.  You  were  a  true 
friend  in  distress." 

Whitney  pretended  to  think. 

"I  —  I  don't  exactly  recall  it,"  he  said  and 
wondered  at  the  woman's  temerity. 

"  Why,"  she  said  casually,  quite  as  if  she  were 
discussing  the  most  trivial  matter.  "  I  haven't 
seen  you  —  have  I?  —  since  you  picked  Mr. 
Stanton  and  me  out  of  that  ditch  just  beyond 
New  Haven,  after  we  went  over  racing  you." 

In  all  his  life  Whitney  had  never  felt  himself 
so  called  upon  to  mask  his  face  of  the  real  emo- 
tions stirring  within  him.  He  stole  a  look 
at  Marion.  She  had  recovered  even  more 
quickly  than  himself  and  was  simply  regarding 
them  as  though  her  ears  were  receiving  an  ordi- 
nary conversation. 

"  Er  —  ah  —  I  don't  believe  I  have,"  said 
Whitney,  very  unevenly. 

Regaining  himself,  he  asked : 

"  How  are  you?     You're  all  right  now?  " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  but  I  will  never  forget  how  funny 
you  looked  when  I  came  to  in  your  machine 
with — "  Mrs.  Blakemore's  turn  it  was  now  to 


154  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

falter.  She  had  almost  said  "  Howard " — 
"  with  Mr.  Stanton  holding  my  hand  and  you 
slapping  my  wrists."  She  laughed  aloud. 
"  You  did  look  so  funny ! "  She  put  out  her 
hand  to  his  arm.  "  I  don't  believe  I  ever 
thanked  you." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,"  said  Whitney,  flus- 
tered anew.  "  I  frequently  look  funny." 

Marion  spoke: 

"  Yes.  Being  a  hero  does  not  agree  with 
you,  Oliver.  You  look  funny  now." 

"  Do  I?     Absurd.     Why  should  I?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  returned  blandly. 
"Why  should  you?" 

There  came  a  cough  at  the  doorway  and 
young  Mrs.  Stanton  looked  up  and  said: 
"  Yes,  Wilson?  " 

"  Mr.  Stanton,"  said  the  factotum,  return- 
ing from  his  mission  of  informing  his  master 
that  Mr.  Whitney  had  arrived,  "  says,  ma'am,  he 
is  very,  very  busy,  and  he  will  be  down  when  the 
others  get  here." 

It  was  clear  that  Howard  Stanton  once  hav- 
ing slipped  out  of  the  snare  was  now  a  wholly 
cautious  fish. 

"  Very  well,  Wilson,"  said  little  Mrs.  Stanton, 


A  MUTUAL  FRIEND  155 

and  looking  again  at  Mrs.  Blakemore  and  Whit- 
ney. "  The  man  is  a  fool.  He  evidently 
bungled  my  message.  He's  a  perfect  fool,  I 
think,  sometimes."  She  arose,  smiling.  "  How- 
ard would  never  forgive  me,"  she  declared,  "  if 
I  allowed  him  to  miss  these  delightful  remi- 
niscences." 

"Yes,"  was  Whitney's  grim  rejoinder,  "I 
would  certainly  like  him  to  be  in  on  this." 

Then  Marion  promptly  went  toward  the  door. 
She  stopped  to  say: 

"  I  know  you  two  will  be  able  to  amuse  each 
other,"  and  significantly  drawing  a  chair  near 
where  Mrs.  Blakemore  sat,  she  smiled  at  Whit- 
ney and  was  gone. 

Whitney  took  the  chair.  Mrs.  Blakemore 
said  nothing;  he  said  nothing.  But  much 
meaning  passed  between  their  eyes.  Finally 
Whitney  eased  his  posture  somewhat  and  began : 

"  Not  that  I  wish  to  seem  discourteous, 
Elizabeth ;  but  —  how  on  earth  did  you  get 
here?" 

Mrs.  Blakemore  widened  her  eyes : 

"  I  was  invited  as  you  were,  I  presume,  Oli- 
ver." 

Whitney's  face  grew  rather  rigid. 


156  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Stanton  asked  you  ?  " 

"  My  friend,  Mrs.  Stanton,  Oliver,  dear,"  re- 
plied the  widow  appreciatively. 

Whitney  was  propelled  into  an  action  border- 
ing on  the  rude.  He  whistled.  It  was  a  soft 
whistle,  but  highly  significant. 

It  would  have  been  rude  had  it  not  subtly  con- 
veyed his  admiration.  And  he  smiled  and  said: 

"  You  ought  to  forgive  admiration,  Puss. 
You're  a  wiz  —  you're  two  wizzes." 

"  The  admiration  is  genuine  ?  " 

"  It  certainly  is." 

"  Then  prove  it." 

Whitney  got  up,  hesitated,  seemed  to  under- 
stand, and  moved  across  to  her. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  threw  back  her  head  and  per- 
mitted herself  the  pleasure  of  real  laughter, 
throwing  up  both  hands  guardedly,  however. 

"  Not  when  we're  alone.  I'll  take  that  tete- 
a-tete  proof  for  granted.  You  see  I've  had 
plenty  of  that  kind." 

"  Well  —  oh,  you  mean ;"  and  Whitney  hav- 
ing no  very  clear  idea  of  what  she  did  mean, 
stopped,  looked  closely  at  her  throat  and  said: 
"  By  Jove,  Elizabeth,  what  handsome  pearls." 

"Think  so?     I  like  them." 


A  MUTUAL  FRIEND  157 

"Stanton?" 

She  shook  her  head  and  looked  at  him  archly. 

"  Don't  you  recognize  them  ?  " 

He  came  closer,  looked  more  closely  and  shook 
his  head  negatively.  "  I  had  them  made  into  a 
collar  —  it's  more  serviceable  than  a  rope." 

Whitney  dug  his  forefinger  at  his  shirt  front 
to  indicate  himself  and  looked  amazed. 

She  nodded  amusedly. 

"  I  knew  you  wouldn't  mind." 

Whitney  fell  back  and  for  several  seconds 
gazed  at  the  pearl  collar  gently,  retrospectively 
and  himself  amused. 

"  Honest,"  he  said.  "  Was  I  ever  as  young 
as  that?" 

"  Oliver !  "  she  murmured  reproachfully. 

"  Yes,  Puss,"  he  said ;  "  you  are  three 
wizzes ! " 

He  sauntered  away  from  her,  in  appearance 
still  retrospective,  as  an  old  man  might  be  de- 
lightedly recalling  the  follies  of  his  youth. 

"  Be  very  nice  to  me  to-night,  won't  you,  Oli- 
ver, dear?  "  she  pleaded  softly. 

"  Well  —  will  I  ?     You  just  watch." 

"  I  mean,"  she  smiled,  "  when  Howard  is  look- 
ing." 


158  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

Whitney  suddenly  fell  into  a  chair.  He  bent 
over  in  the  expression  of  sudden  laughter.  She 
was  puzzled.  He  straightened  up. 

"  I  wouldn't  have  missed  this  for  all  the 
world,"  chuckled  the  man.  "  Really,  Puss,  the 
only  thing  lacking  to  make  this  affair  a  perfect 
success  is  a  Mrs.  Oliver  Whitney." 

"  I  wonder  —  er  —  could  that  be  arranged  ?  " 

She  had  for  him  in  this  moment  a  most  seduc- 
tive glance.  And  she  had  spoken  quite  thought- 
fully. 

He  paused  also  before  he  replied. 

"  I'm  sure  it  couldn't,"  he  laughed. 

"Why  'sure,'  Oliver?" 

"  No  woman  will  ever  take  me,"  he  explained, 
with  merry  eyes. 

"  I  don't  see  why  not ! "  Her  indignation 
sounded  very  genuine  and  there  was  an  admira- 
tion in  her  voice  indicating  that  here  stood  a 
prize  which  did  not  know  its  value. 

"  It  is  perfectly  simple  why  no  woman  will 
ever  take  me,"  he  said. 

"And  why?" 

"  Because  I  never  will  ask  any,  dear." 

Mrs.  Blakemore's  attitude  indicated  that  she 
thought  him  altogether  horrid. 


A  MUTUAL  FRIEND  159 

Yet  Whitney,  sincere  at  this  moment,  un- 
doubtedly, was  like  others,  a  child  in  the  hands 
of  chance.  This  very  evening,  so  things  had 
been  laid,  he  was  to  ask  a  woman  that  very  thing 
which  he  had  so  cynically  declared  at  this  min- 
ute he  never  would  ask. 


CHAPTER  XV 

A  PROPOSAL  OF  MARRIAGE 

AT  the  interesting  juncture  when  Whit- 
ney had  declared  his  complete  adoption 
of  celibacy,  little  Mrs.  Stanton  returned  to  the 
library  bringing  Howard  with  her.  In  the 
progress  of  her  campaign  it  was  quite  necessary 
for  her  to  have  a  few  minutes  alone  with  Oliver 
Whitney,  and  even  the  risk  of  sending  her  hus- 
band and  the  dashing  widow  off  in  each  other's 
company  while  she  did  so,  seemed  essential.  To 
this  end  she  had  gone  upstairs  and  induced  How- 
ard to  return.  He  had  been  reluctant.  But 
she  had  pointed  out  to  him  most  earnestly  the 
danger  of  Mrs.  Blakemore  regarding  his  con- 
duct as  extraordinary  and  of  Whitney's  more  or 
less  amused  surprise  at  his  absence.  So  that 
finally  he  accompanied  her  back  to  the  room  out 
of  which  he  had  so  incontinently  fled  a  little 
while  before. 

"  Hello,   Whitney,"    Stanton    said    cordially. 
160 


A  PROPOSAL  OF  MARRIAGE      161 

"  How  are  you  ?  Wilson  always  bungles  Mari- 
on's messages.  I'm  sorry  to  have  kept  you 
waiting." 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  miss  you,"  grinned  Whitney, 
and  the  very  moment  that  Marion  was  wonder- 
ing just  what  turn  to  give  the  talk  that  might 
throw  Howard  and  the  widow  together  while  she 
made  an  essential  ally  of  Whitney,  Mrs.  Blake- 
more  herself  played  directly  into  her  hands. 

"  Won't  you  show  me  your  conservatory," 
said  she,  thoroughly  respectful  now  of  Marion's 
cleverness  and  fearful  of  some  new  deft  attack 
schemed  to  be  played  with  four  corners. 
"  You've  told  me  so  much  about  your  conserva- 
tory." 

Stanton  did  not  conceal  his  pleasure  at  this 
opening  for  a  new  escape. 

"  Why  —  certainly  —  certainly,"  he  an- 
swered eagerly,  offering  her  his  arm.  At  just 
this  time  Marion  watched  with  satisfaction  her 
husband  in  the  company  of  Mrs.  Blakemore. 

"  Oliver,  will  you  do  me  a  favor?  "  the  young 
wife  asked  immediately,  when  her  husband  and 
the  widow  had  passed  out  of  hearing. 

"  Of  course." 

"  Will  you  be  very  nice  to  me  to-night  ?  " 


162  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Well,  will  I?     You  just  watch." 

Whitney  laughed  agreeably,  but  there  was  an 
undercurrent  of  serious  feeling  in  his  voice. 

"  I  mean,"  she  said,  gazing  very  earnestly  up 
into  his  face,  "  when  my  husband  is  looking." 

Whitney  stood  back  and  looked  at  her.  His 
countenance  still  wore  its  expression  of  amuse- 
ment, but  nevertheless,  the  quick  eagerness  of 
her  manner  had  its  effect  of  drawing  his  sym- 
pathy instantly. 

"  Do  you  know?  "  he  said  after  a  little  while, 
"  that  something  tells  me  that  I  am  going  to  be 
the  belle  of  this  party  ?  " 

He  looked  more  earnestly  at  her  as  she  stood 
there  so  slight  and  fair-faced  and  purely  pretty ; 
so  altogether  sweet  and  desirable; — the  one 
great  thing  in  his  life  that  had  been  absolutely 
denied  him. 

"  Do  you  love  him,  Marion  ?  "  the  man  asked 
her  softly. 

She  did  not  answer  immediately.  Although 
he  told  himself  then  and  kept  repeating  the 
thought  that  he  was  absurd  to  allow  his  heart  to 
beat  more  rapidly  in  the  sudden  revival  of  a 
hope  that  he  had  laid  away  long  ago  in  rose- 


A  PROPOSAL  OF  MARRIAGE     163 

mary,  yet  the  hope  was  stronger  than  all  reason- 
ing and  prevailed  and  soon  began  to  shine  in  his 
eyes  as  he  looked  at  her. 

"  What  is  this,  Oliver  —  a  cross-examina- 
tion? "  she  asked. 

"  May  I  answer  truthfully?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  then,"  he  said,  without  effort  to  touch 
her,  but  standing  there  with  his  hands  at  his 
sides  and  his  head  up,  "  it  is  a  proposal  of  mar- 
riage." 

Marion  caught  her  breath. 

"  Oliver  Whitney,"  she  exclaimed,  "  are  you 
serious?  " 

"  Now,  Marion,"  he  remonstrated,  "  forget 
that  you  are  a  woman  and  be  sane." 

"  Hadn't  we  better  both  try  to  be  sane  ?  "  she 
laughed. 

"  I  am  sane,  Marion."  He  looked  at  her  wist- 
fully and  seriously ;  his  handsome,  high-bred 
countenance  peculiarly  attractive  in  the  manly 
tenderness  that  it  displayed.  "  That  is  why  I 
have  spoken  —  because  I  have  the  right  to 
speak." 

She  drew  back  from  him,  slightly  startled,  yet 


164  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

without  fear  or  indignation  in  that  she  knew  he 
was  worthy  and  had  always  been  worthy  of  her 
trust  and  friendship. 

"  The  right,  Oliver?  "  she  asked  curiously. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  squarely ;  "  an  uninter- 
rupted, honorable  love  of  eight  years  has  rights. 
It  has  the  right  to  come  to  you  when  you  are  in 
perplexity,  in  distress,  to  let  you  know  that  it 
is  at  your  service;  ready,  waiting,  eager  to  be 
used  in  any  way  that  you  may  see  fit.  My  dear 
child,  everybody  who  knows  us  both  knows  that 
I  love  you." 

He  saw  that  she  was  disconcerted  at  his  words ; 
saw  that  the  expression  of  the  faithfulness  of 
his  love  had  moved  her  deeply.  He  walked  to  a 
chair  and  sat  there  with  intent  to  reassure  her 
more  or  less  of  his  own  calmness.  Looking  at 
her  again  he  said : 

"  And  I  wouldn't  have  you  break  the  littlest 
of  our  silly  conventions  for  my  sake.  There- 
fore, I  am  here  ready  to  do  the  smallest  service 
or  receive  the  greatest  honor." 

He  leaned  forward. 

"  Do  you  really  and  truly  love  him  ? "  he 
asked  simply. 

Her  reply  was  as  direct  as  the  question.     The 


A  PROPOSAL  OF  MARRIAGE     165 

sincerity  he  could  not  doubt  in  the  tone  in  which 
she  said :  "  Yes ;  I  love  him,  Oliver." 

He  looked  away.  Briefly  his  face  was 
crossed  by  the  rigidity  that  holds  our  features 
when  we  are  in  pain.  But  when  he  looked  at 
her  again,  he  was  smiling. 

"  Then,"  he  said,  "  we  must  show  Mrs.  Blake- 
more  up." 

"  I  mean  to  — "  she  answered  with  determina- 
tion. She  faltered  immediately.  "  But,  Oli- 
ver," she  continued,  her  eyes  studying  her  hands, 
"  don't  laugh  at  me,  Oliver  —  I'm  afraid." 

"  Afraid." 

He  left  the  chair  and  came  close  to  her. 

"  Yes." 

"Why?" 

"  She  isn't,"  said  little  Marion,  shaking  her 
head,  "  the  least  bit  like  what  I  expected." 

Whitney  could  not  quite  suppress  the  amuse- 
ment  that  arose  in  spite  of  himself. 

"  What  did  you  expect  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Oh,  you  know  the  sort,"  she  replied  with  a 
funny  little  lift  of  her  eyelids,  and  with  ges- 
tures that  followed  she  indicated  an  enormous 
coiffure,  an  over-tight  costume  and  a  very  su- 
perior "  perfect  lady "  air.  "  You  can  see 


166  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

them  in  certain  restaurants  and  at  some  first 
nights,"  she  explained,  "  and  no  matter  how  well 
they  are  dressed  anything  honest  makes  them 
seem  cheap." 

For  all  the  admiration  that  he  could  not  keep 
out  of  his  smiling  eyes,  the  young  bachelor 
nodded  his  head  reprovingly. 

"  Your  modesty  doesn't  do  you  credit,"  he 
said.  "  For  Heaven's  sake  —  did  you  think 
Howard  would  fall  for  one  of  the  gold-purse 
brigade?  " 

"  Well,"  Marion  admitted,  "  I  did  think  she 
would  be  one  of  that  kind.  I  knew  he  couldn't 
really  care  for  that  sort.  I  did  not  want  to  be 
jealous,  hysterical  —  and  lose  him.  I  wanted  to 
be  different  —  to  act  differently  than  my  sisters 
usually  do  in  such  affairs.  I  determined  to  in- 
vite her  here,  meaning  to  show  him  how  fool- 
ish he  was  — " 

She  turned  away  bitterly,  a  sudden  trembling 
attacking  her  lips. 

"  I  thought  it  would  be  obvious,"  she  went  on, 
her  voice  wavering ;  "  and  it  turns  out  that  the 
only  obvious  thing  is  that  I  was  a  fool." 

Speaking,  the  vision  had  risen  in  her  mind 
of  the  tall,  supple  woman  in  the  fashionable 


A  PROPOSAL  OF  MARRIAGE     167 

gown  with  its  sweeping  lines,  of  the  shapely 
head  and  its  dusky  black  hair,  of  the  well-turned 
throat  and  cheek  and  the  scarlet  mouth  and 
heavy,  handsome  black  eyes  —  a  woman  above 
all,  with  the  air  of  the  drawing-room  as  inher- 
ent as  her  own;  with  not  a  single  sign  of  vul- 
garity apparent  to  aid  in  the  disillusionment 
of  the  fascinated  Stanton. 

"And  now  you  are  losing  your  nerve?  "  de- 
manded Whitney  remonstratingly. 

She  drew  herself  together. 

"  No ;  I'm  not,"  she  said  with  sudden  decision. 
"  She  must  be  that  sort  at  heart  —  even  if  it 
doesn't  show  on  the  surface.  I'll  —  I'll  — " 
but  again  doubting,  disconcerting  thoughts  at- 
tacked her.  "  I  —  I  just  couldn't  stand  losing, 
Oliver,"  she  said  piteously.  She  passed  a 
quick  hand  over  her  eyes.  She  looked  at  him 
certain  of  his  understanding,  of  his  sympathy, 
of  his  trustworthiness  as  a  source  of  encourage- 
ment. "I  —  love  —  him,"  she  said,  a  sob 
sounding  in  her  voice  in  sign  of  her  deep  feeling. 

Whitney  spoke  firmly. 

"  She's  a  quitter  at  heart.  Thieves  generally 
are,"  he  declared.  "  And  one  thing  else  —  may 
I  give  you  a  little  lesson  in  men,  Marion?  " 


168  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

She  nodded  gratefully. 

"  When  love  is  dead,"  declared  Whitney,  "  a 
man  jumps  to  the  opposite  extreme  in  type, — 
when  love  is  chilled  by  drifting  or  lack  of  sym- 
pathy he  hunts  up  someone  to  give  him  sympa- 
thy; that's  all.  I  think  he  loves  you,  child. 
Put  that  between  your  teeth  and  run  off  with  the 
race,  little  girl,"  he  said,  and  in  his  earnestness 
he  was  closely  upon  her  and  put  out  his  hands. 
Impulsively,  she  put  out  her  hands  to  him. 

And  it  was  thus  that  Stanton  saw  them  as  he 
returned  from  the  conservatory  with  Mrs.  Blake- 
more  on  his  arm,.. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  SHOE  ON  THE  OTHER  FOOT 

IT  was  no  great  compliment  to  Mrs.  Blake- 
more  that  she  could  feel  the  sudden  tight- 
ening of  Stanton's  arm  and  that  she  saw  the  ex- 
pression of  sullen  resentment  that  flashed  across 
his  face  at  sight  of  Marion  and  Whitney  in  the 
position  in  which  they  were  standing  as  Howard 
and  she  entered  the  room.  Certainly,  the  pic- 
ture of  intimacy  and  close  friendship  was  ob- 
vious. A  jealous  man  could  have  only  one 
construction  for  it. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  put  just  the  right  touch  of 
emphasis  in  her  exclamation : 

"  My,  how  interested.     What  is  it?  " 

It  was  a  sally  hopeful  of  producing  confu- 
sion. 

But  Marion  merely  looked  up  brightly  and 
said  surprisingly. 

"  Oliver  was  just  giving  me  a  little  lesson  in 
love." 

169 


170  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Interesting?  "  sneered  Stanton,  hotly,  for 
all  the  effort  he  made  to  have  his  voice  sound 
indifferent. 

Marion  and  Whitney  were  left  looking  at 
each  other.  Both  laughed.  The  sound  of  it 
struck  them  both,  however,  as  being  a  little  fool- 
ish. 

"  It  was,"  said  Mrs.  Blakemore  with  decision. 

"  You  ought  to  know,  Puss,"  said  Whitney 
with  sudden,  cool  audacity.  He  drawled  the  pet 
name  fondly.  It  struck  Stanton  as  he  intended 
that  it  should.  And  it  struck  him  with  com- 
plete surprise.  It  heightened  as  Whitney  con- 
tinued, going  over  to  Mrs.  Blakemore,  "  Marion 
somehow  seems  to  doubt  my  ability  as  a  teacher. 
Will  you  recommend  me  ?  " 

"  I?  "  laughed  the  widow  above  a  quick  feel- 
ing of  chagrin.  "  I  couldn't.  How,"  she  chal- 
lenged, "  could  I  recommend  you  as  a  lover?  " 

"  The  ingratitude  of  woman ! "  cried  Whit- 
ney reproachfully.  He  wheeled  on  Marion, 
"  Well,  I  hope  you  are  not  going  to  be  that 
way ! " 

"  I  promise  to  remember,"  smiled  the  young 
wife. 

The  shock  of  finding  his  wife  and  Whitney 


SHOE  ON  THE  OTHER  FOOT  171 

practically  holding  hands  found  now  a  repeti- 
tion with  Stanton  at  the  easily  assumed,  lover- 
like  attitude  of  Whitney  toward  Mrs.  Blake- 
more.  Plainly,  the  man  had  made  eyes  at  her; 
had  indicated  a  great  and  deep  mutual  under- 
standing based  on  grounds  of  an  old  and  still 
lively  intimacy. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  felt  as  unpleasantly  about  it 
as  Stanton.  Whitney's  attitude  was  annoying 
—  so  much  so  that  she  almost  permitted  the  dis- 
gust it  caused  her  to  show  on  her  countenance. 

"  That  ought  to  help  some,"  said  Whitney 
with  self-satisfaction,  when  Marion  promised  to 
remember  his  injunction  against  ingratitude  for 
tutelage  in  affairs  of  the  heart. 

Stanton  was  visibly  irritated  —  irritated,  Ma- 
rion saw,  almost  to  the  point  of  some  foolish 
outburst  of  speech.  She  said,  therefore,  quickly 
to  the  widow : 

"  What  a  beautiful  collar.  I've  never  seen 
such  exquisitely  matched  pearls." 

"  Yes ;  it  is  very  beautiful,"  said  Mrs.  Blake- 
more.  Then  she  continued  slowly  and  retro- 
spectively, with  the  corner  of  her  eye  for  Whit- 
ney as  she  spoke :  "  A  very  tiresome  old  man 
gave  it  to  me  many  years  ago  when  I  was  a  girl. 


172  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

When  men  who  are  too  lazy  to  work  and  have  too 
much  money  for  their  own  good,  grow  old,  they 
nearly  always  take  to  some  foolish  hobby  like 
matching  jewels  or  collecting  bric-a-brac. 
Don't  you  think  so,  Mr.  Whitney  ?  " 

"  Bric-a-brac  is  good,"  he  answered,  looking 
her  straight  in  the  eyes.  And  then,  with  his  an- 
noying resumption  of  his  air  of  being  her  par- 
ticularly chosen  cavalier,  he  offered  his  arm. 
"  Won't  you  show  me  the  conservatory  ?  "  he 
asked  blandly. 

She  had  no  excuse  with  which  readily  to  elude 
him.  So  she  surrendered. 

"  Certainly,  if  you  care  to  see  it,"  she  an- 
swered as  graciously  as  she  could. 

Marion  looked  after  them  and  Stanton's  eyes 
angrily  followed  them,  too. 

"  What  a  stunning  looking  couple ! "  the 
young  wife  exclaimed,  following  them  with  ad- 
miring eyes.  Stanton  did  not  at  once  reply. 

He  looked  at  her  harshly. 

"  I  can't  stand  that  man  Whitney  —  never 
could,"  he  blurted. 

It  was  all  the  little  woman  could  do  to  stifle 
the  exclamation  of  joy  that  rose  in  her  throat 
—  a  sudden  strong  sensation  of  exultation. 


SHOE  ON  THE  OTHER  FOOT     173 

Despite  his  boyishness ;  despite  his  recklessness ; 
despite  even  the  wandering  of  his  love ;  she  loved 
him.  She  had  told  Whitney  so  and  it  was  the 
confession  of  what  she  had  been  compelled  to 
tell  herself  when  she  was  brought  direfully  to 
face  a  situation  that  threatened  divorce  or  sepa- 
ration, at  least,  had  she  moved  along  the  recog- 
nized lines.  It  was  this  love  that  had  strength- 
ened her  spirit,  given  the  firm  impulse  to  her 
mind  to  refuse  to  supinely  accept  defeat?  to  be 
strategic;  to  connive  to  hold  him.  She  loved 
him;  she  would  not  lose  him. 

And  the  black  looks  that  he  had  cast  at  Whit- 
ney and  now  the  harsh  words  he  said  suddenly  of 
a  man  whom  she  well  know  he  had  always  liked 
and  admired  immensely,  came  to  her  sweetly,  as 
a  harbinger  of  ultimate  complete  success.  Yet 
she  adjudged  herself  that  she  must  not  feel  too 
sure;  must  not  indulge  in  over-confidence  lest 
the  battle  should  turn  against  her  and  the  loss 
strike  the  more  drastically  upon  her  heart  in  that 
the  danger  should  have  been  put  out  of  her 
mind. 

"  I  can't  stand  him,"  repeated  Stanton.  "  I 
never  could." 

"  Look    here,    Howard,"    she   returned    with 


174  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

mock  indignation.  "  I  don't  complain  of  your 
friends." 

"  Of  course  not,"  he  exclaimed  testily.  "  Why 
should  you?  " 

"  To  be  sure,"  she  said  suavely,  "  Mrs.  Blake- 
more  is  all  I  expected  —  and  more.  I'm  so  glad 
I  asked  her." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  said  with  an  effort  at  the  im- 
personal. "  She  is  an  extremely  clever  woman." 

She  drew  away  and  looked  surprised. 

"  Now,  isn't  that  odd? "  she  commented. 
"  Now,  I  thought  her  more  beautiful  than  clever. 
But  Oliver  —  he  agrees  with  you.  And  — 
isn't  it  fortunate  we  invited  him,  too  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  that  it  is  particularly  f  ortu" 
nate,"  sulked  Stanton. 

Marion  considered. 

"  Oh  — "  she  said  suddenly.  "  Suppose  he 
should  cut  you  out?  Still  —  I  have  reason  to 
believe  that  their  affair  has  been  over  some  time." 

"  Oh  —  you  know  all  about  it  —  do  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes ;  that  is  something  about  it." 

"  Really  — "  he  began  in  an  injured  way. 

"  I  don't  know  that  Oliver  behaved  just  as 
he  should,"  she  continued  critically.  "  But," 


SHOE  ON  THE  OTHER  FOOT      175 

she  shrugged  her  shoulders,  "  men  are  all  alike, 
I  presume." 

Stanton  had  strode  toward  the  window  from 
whence  he  now  looked  back  and  demanded 
sharply : 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  cad  has  been 
talking  to  you  about  Mrs.  Blakemore?  " 

She  laughed  airily. 

"  Oh,  my  gracious,  goodness,  no !  "  she  said 
with  a  light  flutter  of  her  hands.  "  We  had  so 
much  else  to  talk  about." 

Stealthily  she  sought  a  look  at  his  face. 

"  Oliver  would  not  talk  of  it.  He's  a  gentle- 
man. And  things  are  just  in  the  air,  you 
know." 

She  moved  in  her  easy,  graceful  way  to  the 
fireplace.  "  So  I  think  it  most  fortunate  that 
we  invited  him,  too.  Everything  will  be  so  con- 
genial." 

"  A  very  pleasant  party,"  he  said  scornfully. 

"  I  have  enjoyed  it  so  far,  I'm  sure,"  she  said 
with  great  sincerity. 

"  You  and  —  and  Whitney !  "  he  called  at  her. 

She  took  a  place  on  the  sofa  and  reclined 
lithely. 


176  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Yes,"  she  assented  casually,  and  then  very 
earnestly,  "  Oliver  and  I  are  old  friends  —  very 
old  friends  and  —  very  dear  friends.  Let  me 
see,"  she  smiled  gently,  "  the  first  time  Oliver 
proposed  to  me  was  eight  years  ago." 

Stanton  sneered. 

"  And  the  last  time?  " 

She  started  purposely,  as  if  to  speak,  then 
caught  herself  and  finally  remonstrated : 

"  My  dear  Oliver  —  Oh  —  er,  Howard,  I 
mean  —  I  —  I  don't  ask  you  any  questions !  " 

This  deft  mixing  of  first  names  lashed  Stan- 
ton  severely. 

"  You  mean  he  has  dared  to  make  love  to  you 
in  this  house?  "  he  cried  furiously. 

She  regarded  him  wearily  and  with  a  motion 
indicated  her  impatience  with  his  anger. 

"  My  dear  boy,  how  stupid  of  you.  Men  are 
all  alike." 

"  Marion,"  he  said,  moving  determinedly  to- 
ward her,  his  face  set  in  rigid  sternness,  "  you 
are  my  wife." 

She  got  up  and  looked  him  fully  in  the  face. 

"  Yes,  Howard,  you  are  my  husband." 

"  I  am  not  going  to  permit  any  man  making 
love  to  my  wife !  "  he  stormed. 


SHOE  ON  THE  OTHER  FOOT     177 

She  was  wholly  reproachful. 

"  Howard,"  she  said  evenly.  "  I  have  not 
curtailed  any  of  your  privileges.  Why  should 
you  seek  to  curtail  my  — " 

He  gasped  in  sheer  horror. 

"  Privileges  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"You  seem  to  forget,"  she  adjured;  "we 
may  get  divorced." 

"  What  has  that  got  to  do  with  it,"  he  ex- 
postulated hotly.  "  That  does  not  give  him  any 
right  to  make  love  to  you,  or  you  to  listen.  I 
am  giving  you  the  divorce.  I  —  I  — "  he  floun- 
dered, "  I  am  doing  the  transgressing  for  this 
family ! " 

"  Well,"  she  said  pleasantly,  eyeing  his  rage 
with  happiness  storming  in  her  bosom,  "  I'm 
glad  you  are  going  to  assume  some  of  the  re- 
sponsibilities of  married  life." 

Thus  confronting  each  other,  Mrs.  Livingston 
saw  them  as  she  came  to  greet  her  daughter ;  she 
and  the  General  and  Marion's  brother  Bob  and 
the  bird-like  little  Mrs.  Bob  being  of  the  num- 
ber whom  Marion  had  invited  to  the  curious 
dinner  set  for  this  night. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  PROOF  OF  LOVE 

THE  sensation  of  seeing  her  husband  with 
his  jealousy  aroused,  scowling  and  fuming 
over  what  he  fully  believed  to  have  been  an  in- 
dulgence in  flirtation  by  her,  was  so  delightful 
to  Marion  that  she  would  rather  her  mother  had 
not  come  upon  them  just  at  that  moment.  This 
was  something,  however,  that  it  was  quite  im- 
possible for  Mrs.  Livingston  to  know  and  the 
good  lady  came  forward,  smiling  and  ready  to 
greet  them  both  most  cordially.  But  at  sight 
of  husband  and  wife  confronting  each  other  and 
Howard's  flushed  and  forbidding  visage,  her 
mother-love  flew  instantly  to  arms.  Whereas 
she  began  a  salutation :  "  Good  evening,  chil- 
dren— "  she  treated  Stanton  to  a  chilling  stare 
and  resumed,  "  Good  evening,  my  child.  Good 
evening,  Mr.  Stanton." 

Stanton,  unaware  of  her  thoughts,  affably 
shook  hands  with  her. 

178 


THE  PROOF  OF  LOVE          179 

"  Good  evening,"  he  said  heartily,  but  as  her 
coldness  got  into  him  he  stopped  awkwardly,  and 
having  once  before  used  a  ruse  of  escape  suc- 
cessfully, brought  it  forward  again. 

"  I'll  tell  the  others,"  he  said  and  was  gone. 

"  Marion,  every  time  I  see  you  two  you  are 
quarreling,"  said  Mrs.  Livingston  querulously. 

But  if  she  expected  Marion  to  reward  her 
solicitude  by  looking  dutifully  careworn  and 
distressed  there  was  a  surprise  for  her.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  Marion  stood  radiant,  her  pretty, 
delicate  face  most  joyfully  dimpled,  her  eyes 
shining  steadily  and  liquidly. 

Further  was  there  surprise  in  store  for  Mrs. 
Livingston,  for  her  pretty  daughter,  not  ordi- 
narily given  to  superficial  emotional  indulgence, 
rushed  at  her  cyclonically  and  threw  her  arms 
ecstatically  about  the  elder  woman's  neck. 

"  Marion,"  said  the  dignified  Mrs.  Living- 
ston. "  Marion  —  what  is  it?  " 

She  had  caught  the  infection  of  her  daugh- 
ter's high  spirits  with  that  intuitive  way  that 
mothers  have,  and  she  was  beaming  back  at  the 
girl.  Marion  kissed  her  again. 

"  O,  mother  —  mother  — " 

"  Well,  well,  what  is  it,  my  child ;  what  is  it  ?  " 


180  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

She  drew  back,  clapped  her  hands  and  again 
rushed  forward  and  embraced  the  white-haired 
woman. 

"  O,  mother,"  she  cried ;  "  I'm  so  happy." 

"  Happy  ?  "  demanded  the  wondering  Mrs. 
Livingston.  "  H'm  1  If  quarreling  with  your 
husband  makes  you  happy,  it's  a  wonder  you're 
not  giggling  all  the  time." 

"  O  —  O  — ,"  she  laughed  back ;  "  that's  just 
it,  mother.  It's  going  beautifully." 

"  Going  —  going  —  what's  going,  Marion?  " 

"  Oh  —  my  plan.  Couldn't  you  —  couldn't 
you  see  how  he  was?  " 

"  How  who  was  ?  " 

"  How  Howard  was." 

"  He  seemed  in  a  particularly  bad  mood  — 
that  is  all  I  could  see." 

"  I  should  say  he  was,"  the  little  woman  said 
to  the  accompaniment  of  rippling  laughter. 
"  He  was  perfectly  furious !  " 

"  Well,  my  child,  if  it  pleases  to  have  your 
husband  furious  —  why  — " 

"  He  loves  me  —  he  loves  me,  mother."  She 
stopped  with  clasped  hands  and  she  ingenuously 
said: 


THE  PROOF  OF  LOVE  181 

"  It  is  wonderful,  mother,  to  have  your  hus- 
band love  you." 

Mrs.  Livingston  regarded  her  daughter  with  a 
curiosity  that  was  bordering  on  alarm. 

"  It's  a  novelty,  anyhow,"  she  agreed.  "  But 
this  —  what  I  saw  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  yes,  mother.  Why ; "  her  voice 
rang  with  happiness  in  the  crescendo,  "  if  you 
hadn't  just  come  in,  he'd  have  slapped  me!" 

"  Marion,"  faltered  her  white-haired  parent, 
"  are  you  crazy  ?  " 

Little  Mrs.  Stanton  nodded  in  the  fullest  as- 
sent. 

"  Yes,  mother ;  crazy  —  crazy  with  happi- 
ness." She  paused  and  then  of  a  sudden  asked: 
"  When  was  the  last  time  father  slapped  you, 
mother?  " 

"  Marion !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Livingston,  thor- 
oughly horrified. 

"  Why  —  didn't  he  really  ever  slap  you, 
mother  —  almost,  ever?  " 

And  now  Mrs.  Livingston,  as  her  eyes  rested 
fully  into  the  big,  blue  young  eyes  of  her  daugh- 
ter, knew  less  of  horror  and  more  of  certain 
memories  that  when  they  came  made  faint  and 


182  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

gentle  blushes  steal  through  her  white  cheek. 
And  Marion  shook  her  finger  at  her  and  de- 
manded : 

"  Almost,  mother?  " 

"  Why  —  why ;  "  Mrs.  Livingston  could  not 
keep  back  the  retrospective  smile ;  "  why,  yes, 
he  did  —  almost  —  once." 

"  Ah !  "  said  Marion. 

"  But  that  was  a  long  time  ago,"  added  her 
mother  hastily. 

"  Mother  —  mother,"  said  the  happy  girl. 

And  this  time  the  old  woman  met  the  embrace 
of  her  child  with  arms  outstretched  in  return. 

When  Mrs.  Livingston  released  herself,  it  was 
to  pat  her  daughter's  cheek  with  one  hand  the 
while  she  passed  her  handkerchief  toward  a  sus- 
picion of  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  Your  mother  is  an  old  fool,"  she  said 
fondly.  "  And  —  don't  you  ever  dare  to  tell 
your  father." 

With  more  laughter  and  quaint  head-shak- 
ings, Marion  passed  the  pledge. 

For  all  that  as  she  stood  there  she  knew  that 
she  must  not  by  any  means  count  the  battle  won. 
But  surely  she  held  the  greatest,  most  effective 
weapon. 


THE  PROOF  OF  LOVE          183 

If  he  had  not  shown  jealousy,  if  he  had  ac- 
cepted coolly  Whitney's  apparent  courtship  in 
his  home  before  the  way  had  been  made  open 
by  anything  approaching  a  separation  or  di- 
vorce, Marion  would  certainly  have  been  left 
facing  despair.  To  revive  a  love  that  condi- 
tions may  have  made  dormant  was  in  the  range 
of  possibilities ;  to  resurrect  a  love  that  is  dead 
she  knew  well  had  been  in  all  times  a  futile  task. 

Stanton's  response  to  the  goad  she  had  ap- 
plied; the  palpable  fact  that  it  had  not  only 
stung,  but  stung  to  the  quick,  was  her  revelation 
that  her  fight  had  begun  triumphantly.  It  was 
not  an  effort  to  regain  something  that  she  had 
lost  that  confronted  her;  it  was  the  simpler,  eas- 
ier task  of  keeping  what  she  had. 

And  as  she  contemplated  the  scheme  that  she 
had  laid;  the  mine  that  was  now  almost  ready 
to  spring  under  the  reckless  feet  of  the  hand- 
some Southern  widow;  confidence  came  to  her. 
She  began  to  believe  that  before  the  last 
guest  had  departed  from  her  house  this  evening 
the  struggle  would  have  been  won  over  the  other 
woman,  despite  all  her  undeniable  attractions,  the 
fascinations  of  her  brilliant  personality  with  its 
enhancement  of  sensuous  physical  charm. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

OL.D    FRIENDS 

LITTLE  Mrs.  Stanton,  enjoying  her  redis- 
covery of  Howard  Stanton's  love  for  her, 
had  not  thought  to  ask  her  mother  if  her 
brother,  Bob,  would  surely  be  among  the  guests, 
though  should  he  fail  to  do  so,  much  that  she 
had  wrought  toward  a  general  denouement  that 
would  mean  complete  victory  for  herself,  must 
necessarily  fail.  Whitney's  arrival  had  already 
served  its  purpose  well,  even  if  it  did  not  fur- 
ther prove  as  valuable  as  she  had  anticipated. 
Bob's  coming  was  important.  And  then  there 
was  Ned  Morris.  His  presence  was  equally  es- 
sential. 

In  her  early  sensation  of  triumph  she  paused 
therefore  with  the  doubt  arising  as  to  whether 
or  not  she  would  see  them  at  her  dinner-table  on 
this  night.  Further  thought  convinced  her  that 
there  was  no  cause  for  uneasiness.  Surely,  if 
they  were  not  to  come,  some  message  must  have 
184 


OLD  FRIENDS  185 

reached  her  by  a  silver-buttoned  messenger  lad 
or  the  handy  telephone. 

The  first  of  her  misgivings  were  even  then  dis- 
pelled by  the  entrance,  unannounced,  of  her 
big  brother,  Bob,  and  his  petite  and  high-strung 
pretty  wife,  Salie.  Tall,  broad  shouldered, 
about  four  years  out  of  his  university,  Bob  Liv- 
ingston met  exactly  the  conventional  demands 
for  the  appearance  and  conduct  of  a  typical 
New  Yorker  of  the  class  of  hereditary  wealth. 
He  was  almost  absurdly  good-natured  in  the 
matter  of  accepting  the  bossing  of  his  busy 
little  wife.  The  fact  is,  he  thoroughly  enjoyed 
it.  He  was  only  two  months  married  and  far 
from  the  period  of  matrimonial  life  where  he 
would  cease  to  wonder  how  this  altogether  be- 
wilderingly  cute  and  winsome  maid  had  ever 
come  to  think  enough  of  him  to  assume  dicta- 
torial attitudes  toward  his  doings.  In  the  way 
of  fond  smiles  and  glances  he  was  constantly  re- 
warding the  dainty  slave-driver.  He  was  very 
much  in  love. 

"  Ah,"  said  Marion  cordially,  "  welcome  to 
the  bride  and  groom !  " 

At  this  Salie  made  a  pretty  moue  of  remon- 
strance. 


186  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Why,"  said  she,  "  we  are  old  married  people, 
aren't  we,  Robert?  " 

Robert  had  one  of  his  ready  agreements  to 
forward  promptly. 

"  I  should  say  we  were,"  he  declared  emphat- 
ically, but  nevertheless  tinging  his  statement 
with  a  tone  of  humor  that  Salie  did  not  fail  to 
notice. 

"  Don't  say  so  that  way,"  she  demanded  per- 
emptorily. "  You  are  worse  than  Marion." 

"  Yes,  dear,"  he  answered  meekly. 

"That's  right  —  jump  through  the  hoop, 
Robby,"  smiled  Marion. 

Little  Mrs.  Rob  assumed  her  best  authorita- 
tive manner. 

"  As  I  was  saying,  Marion,  you  know  —  the 
last  time  we  talked  —  I  don't  want  to  criticize, 
but  as  I  told  you,  if  you  had  only  started  out 
right."  She  perked  her  pretty  little  head  to  a 
side  with  all  the  snapping  wisdom  in  her  eyes 
that  one  may  have  observed  in  a  sparrow. 
"  Now  Bobby  and  I  will  never  have  any  trouble 
in  our  family,  will  we,  Bobby?  " 

And  she  moved  over  to  him  affectionately. 
But  she  checked  the  movement.  A  hasty  frown 
struck  across  her  face.  She  made  a  little 


OLD  FRIENDS  187 

darting  motion  of  her  hand.  Her  voice  was 
sharp. 

"  What  is  that,"  she  queried,  "  on  your 
shoulder,  a  thread  or  a  hair?  " 

Bob  dropped  back,  plainly  scared. 

"  Oh,"  she  said  easily,  "  a  thread." 

She  rewarded  Bob  with  a  look  of  tender  reas- 
surance. 

"  Yes,  dear,  only  a  thread,"  he  assented 
gladly. 

"  Bobby,"  prompted  Marion,  "  put  that  down 
in  your  book." 

The  flat,  formal  tones  of  Wilson's  voice 
sounded.  And  Marion  caught  from  it  a  wel- 
come message.  There  was  to  be  no  slip  —  no 
absences;  there  would  be  none  of  the  essentials 
missing  for  the  making  of  her  coup. 

"  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edward  Morris,"  said  Wil- 
son. 

Marion  went  quickly  to  meet  them. 

"  Ned,  dear,"  she  said  in  her  excess  of  good 
feeling,  "  you  look  handsome  enough  to  kiss." 

The  dignified  Mr.  Morris  was  not  without 
his  moments  of  graceful  gallantry. 

"  Well,  I  won't  fight  —  cross  my  heart,  I 
won't,"  he  declared. 


188  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  I'll  send  it  to  you  by  Belle,"  said  Marion, 
kissing  Mrs.  Morris. 

And  Mrs.  Morris  shook  her  head  after  the 
kiss. 

"  Don't  make  him  any  more  conceited  than  he 
is,  Marion.  He  firmly  believes  now  that  all 
women  are  running  after  him.  I  tell  him  if  he 
can  hold  me  he's  lucky.  That's  all  the  Lord 
provided  for  one  man." 

"  Well,  be  careful,  dear,"  answered  Marion. 
"  There's  a  great  tendency  now  to  help  the 
Lord  out." 

Marion  observing  that  Bob  had  for  a  moment 
detached  himself  from  the  side  of  Salie  and  was 
looking  interestedly  at  a  painting  on  the  wall  — 
a  battle  picture  which  he  had  always  admired 
very  much  —  slipped  away  herself  from  the  gen- 
eral group  and  caught  him  softly  by  the  arm. 

"  Bobby." 

"  Yes,  sis." 

"  Some  one,"  she  said  mysteriously,  "  is  here 
to-night  that  will  interest  you,  Bobby." 

"  Is  that  so?  " 

Marion  nodded. 

"  I  thought  I  would  let  you  know  in  advance." 

"Who?" 


'YES,   DEAR,   ONLY   A  THREAD,"  HE   ASSENTED   GLADLY 


OLD  FRIENDS  189 

"  Guess." 

"  Can't." 

"  Mrs.  Blakemore." 

If  some  person  had  stolen  up  behind  Mr.  Rob- 
ert Livingston  and  stealthily  inserted  a  red-hot 
rod  between  his  shoulder  blades  it  is  doubtful 
if  he  would  have  given  more  of  a  start  than  when 
his  sister  made  this  announcement. 

The  young  fellow  was  aghast. 

"  Puss  !     Here!  " 

His  tones  had  been  treacherously  loud  and  he 
hastily  put  his  hand  to  his  mouth  by  way,  as  it 
were,  of  closing  the  stable  door  after  the  horse 
had  run  away. 

Marion  glanced  hastily  with  him  toward  Salie. 
She  was  afraid  that  she  would  overhear  but,  ap- 
parently, she  had  not.  Marion,  therefore, 
turned  back  smilingly  toward  her  brother. 

"  Puss,"  she  commented.  "  How  appropri- 
ate." 

But  the  shock  was  still  with  Bob.  He  could 
not  for  a  time  speak  of  the  news  at  all.  He 
simply  looked  first  at  his  sister  indignantly  and 
again  toward  his  wife  wildly. 

And  he  repeated  the  glances  again  and  again. 
Finally,  he  found  his  voice  and  demanded. 


190  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Marion !  How  could  you  let  her  be  in- 
vited? " 

Marion  did  not  answer  his  question.  She 
asked  him  one  in  turn. 

"  Do  you  think,"  she  said  casually,  mischiev- 
ously, "  she  would  tell  Salie  of  that  romantic 
near-drowning  and  your  affair  last  year  at  Palm 
Beach?" 

Bob's  glances  toward  his  little  wife  grew  even 
wilder. 

"  If  Salie  should  find  out,"  said  the  big  fel- 
low in  hushed  tones  of  fear.  "  If  she  should  — 
what  will  happen  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  Bobby,"  said  Marion  uncon- 
solingly.  "  You'd  better  put  that  down  in  your 
book." 

And  Mr.  Edward  Morris,  having  observed  the 
excited  manner  of  Bobby  Livingston  and  the 
keen  looks,  not  to  say  amused  glances  with 
which  Marion  had  been  looking  at  her  brother, 
sauntered  over  to  them.  He  little  suspected 
what  surprising  results  this  mere  stroll  across  the 
room  was  going  to  have.  It  was  only  for  the 
relief  of  an  idle  moment  that  he  went  over  to 
them.  But  it  was  to  mean  many  anxious  mo- 
ments for  him  afterwards. 


OLD  FRIENDS  191 

"  What's  the  conspiracy  ?  "  he  said  with  his 
peculiar  falsity  of  voice  when  he  attempted  the 
lightly  jocular. 

Marion  responded  with  eyes  that  twinkled. 

"  Oh,  I  was  just  speaking,"  she  said,  "  of  a 
guest  that  I  had  invited  you  to  meet." 

"Indeed?" 

"  Yes,"  nodded  Marion,  "  only  she  is  so  at- 
tractive that  she's  carried  off  both  Oliver  Whit- 
ney and  Howard." 

"  Well  —  well,"  said  Morris  with  an  arch 
play  of  his  heavy  eye-brows,  "  any  woman  who 
can  interest  that  old  rake,  Whitney,  is  worth 
knowing." 

"  She  is  interesting  undoubtedly,"  observed 
Marion,  "  and  handsome  —  and,  oh,  many 
things." 

"Who  is  she?" 

"  Mrs.  Blakemore." 

The  stout  Mr.  Edward  Morris  not  only 
started  as  violently  as  Bob  Livingston  had  done, 
but  afterwards  he  palpitated  visibly. 

"  Wha  —  wha  —  what-at?  "  he  gasped. 
"  Why  not  —  not  Eliza  — " 

Marion  spoke  very  distinctly. 

"  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Blakemore,"  she  said. 


192  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

And  when  that  had  thoroughly  sunken  in,  she 
added  dulcetly  and  significantly: 

"  Puss." 

"  Oh  —  aw  —  aw  — "  No  fat  fish  on  a  hook 
ever  floundered  more  helplessly  than  the  orna- 
mental lawyer  and  society  man  was  now  help- 
lessly and  hopelessly  flopping  mentally. 

"  Is  she  your  *  Puss,'  too  ?  "  asked  Marion  in 
nai've  surprise. 

Mr.  Morris  used  his  handkerchief.  He 
coughed.  He  paused.  In  the  end  he  sum- 
moned up  a  smile  and  looked  at  Livingston. 

"  Er  —  aw,"  he  asked  vaguely,  "  isn't  that 
the  lady,  Bobby,  you  introduced  me  to?  " 

But  Bob  Livingston  was  bolder. 

"  Never  heard  of  her  in  my  life,"  said  he 
sternly. 

"  Then  you  must  have  introduced  him,  Ned?  " 
said  Marion. 

Mr.  Morris,  however,  did  not  heed  her  re- 
mark. His  eyes  were  round  and  he  had  them 
fixed  on  Bob  in  a  glare  of  indignation. 

"  You  liar ! "  he  said  softly,  but  most  earn- 
estly. 

"  Come  on,"  retorted  Bob,  "  call  me  that  in 
front  of  your  wife  and  let  me  explain." 


OLD  FRIENDS  193 

Morris,  helpless  again,  made  a  gesture  that 
might  have  betokened  a  desire  to  compromise, 
though  his  eyes  remained  angry.  Bob  gave  him 
no  chance  for  a  consultation  on  the  subject. 
He  walked  as  fast  as  he  could  back  to  the  pro- 
tection of  his  little  commander. 

Any  way,  attention  at  this  time  focused  on 
the  entrance  of  the  straight  and  fine-looking  old 
General  Livingston.  There  was  an  affectionate 
greeting  between  father  and  daughter.  She 
caught  her  mother's  hand,  too,  on  the  impulse 
of  filial  love  and  drew  the  white-haired  man  and 
woman  together.  And  thus  flanked,  she  viewed 
calmly  the  return  to  the  room  of  the  Georgia 
widow.  Stanton  walked  on  one  side  of  her, 
Whitney  on  the  other. 

Marion  looked  quickly  over  the  assemblage. 
There  was  something  pitying  in  her  look  as  she 
took  in  the  presence  of  Bob  and  Ned  Morris. 
But  secretly  she  knew  a  tremendous  satisfaction. 
The  time  for  her  to  strike  hardest  for  the  reten- 
tion of  the  love  that  was  the  most  precious  thing 
in  life  for  her  had  arrived. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

OLIVER'S  TIE 

THE  domestic  "  sky  rockets "  that  Galle- 
gher,  the  World  reporter,  had  thought  of 
as  popping  in  the  Stanton  household,  more  than 
a  week  ago,  were  now  ready  for  the  flaring  by 
reason  of  the  confrontation  that  was  soon  to 
come  of  "  Puss  "  with  her  many  "  pals." 

Marion  trembled  a  little  as  the  situation  actu- 
ally arose  and,  in  fact,  was  before  her.  This 
was  no  time  for  weakening,  however,  so  she  sped 
forward,  feeling  elation  almost  as  she  went  into 
action,  and  called  so  loudly  that  the  attention 
of  the  entire  company  must  be  attracted : 

"  Ah,  here  are  the  truants." 

Mrs.  Blakemore  paused  and  the  two  men 
stopped  with  her.  The  strikingly,  conspicu- 
ously handsome  woman  stood  scanning  the  room 
queerly.  Her  heart  started  an  increased  rapid- 
ity of  beating.  Her  glance  wandered  wonder- 
ingly,  uneasily  past  Marion,  past  Mrs.  Living- 
194s 


OLIVER'S  TIE  195 

ston,  past  the  old  General.  She  saw  young 
Bob,  and  she  saw  the  portly  Ned  Morris.  She 
looked  at  the  other  women  and  then  she  sought 
searchingly  the  face  of  Marion. 

She  had  come  to  know  that  this  little  child- 
ish woman  was  not  to  be  ignored;  not  merely 
brushed  aside  as  a  trifling  obstacle  with  the  mere 
claim  of  wifehood  to  hold  a  man's  love.  She 
had  realized  before  this  that  she  was  the  guest  at 
the  Stanton  home  this  night  to  serve  some  pur- 
pose of  the  diffident,  golden-haired  girl-wife  who 
looked  back  at  her  with  such  smiling  and  superb 
composure. 

The  dawn  of  an  understanding  of  the  plot 
was  with  her  now.  But  she  was  not  of  those 
who  cringe,  who  cower  or  who  run  away.  Had 
she  been  of  that  sort,  the  way  out  was  easy.  A 
fainting  spell,  a  mere  plea  of  sudden  illness  and 
she  might  have  called  for  her  wraps  and  a  cab 
and  departed.  But  that  would  have  meant  leav- 
ing the  field.  That  would  have  been  a  quick 
surrender.  And  Mrs.  Blakemore  at  this  time 
would  undoubtedly  have  declared  that  it  would 
be  a  stupid  blunder.  Stanton  was  not  as  unre- 
servedly cordial  and  enthusiastic  as  she  knew  he 
could  be  and  had  liked  to  be  in  her  company. 


196  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

However,  there  was  ample  explanation  for  that 
in  the  presence  of  his  wife.  The  little  woman 
was  everywhere  among  her  guests ;  Stanton  had 
unpleasantness  to  guard  against,  suspicion  to 
thwart.  The  close  guard  that  his  wife  was  weav- 
ing or  hoped  to  weave  by  introducing  her  into 
the  very  Stanton  home;  into  the  acquaintance- 
ship of  the  family  circle,  was  clever,  but  Mrs. 
Blakemore  could  smile  at  that.  Stanton  was 
still  malleable;  still  prone  to  the  spell  of  her 
charm,  she  felt. 

In  the  presence  of  Bob  Livingston,  however, 
and  of  Morris,  she  could  read  signals  that  she 
did  not  attempt  to  tell  herself  were  not  red  lights 
of  danger.  Stanton,  willful,  spoiled  since  boy- 
hood, would  bitterly  resent  being  one  of  any 
army  of  followers;  one  dent  in  a  thoroughly 
nicked  fan  of  vanity. 

Mrs.  Blakemore's  emotions  had  almost  at- 
tained the  tumultuous.  Certainly  they  were  dis- 
turbing her  highly.  But  she  merely  answered 
in  reply  to  Marion's  accusation  of  truancy  with 
a  most  gracious  lift  of  her  brow  and  glance  of 
her  eye  and  an  innocent  apology. 

"  I  hope,"  she  said,  "  we  have  not  kept  you 
waiting?  " 


OLIVER'S  TIE  197 

"  Oh,  no.  Mrs.  Stanton,  may  I  present  Mrs. 
Blakemore?  Mrs.  Blakemore,  my  father,  Gen- 
eral Livingston." 

At  the  next  move,  Mrs.  Blakemore  was  ma- 
neuvered neatly  in  line  of  vision  with  Bob  Liv- 
ingston and  Ned  Morris.  These  two  gentlemen 
stood  arm  in  arm,  brothers  in  distress.  They 
stood  rigidly  during  the  first  introductions. 
Both  made  almost  palpably  panicky  movements 
of  recoil  as  Mrs.  Blakemore  beamed  on  them. 

She  showed  no  embarrassment  whatever;  no 
consciousness  of  a  premeditation  on  the  part  of 
Marion  in  the  scene  before  her.  She  simply 
went  straight  at  the  men  with  her  hands  out- 
stretched, and  she  called  to  them  warmly  as  she 
did  so  — 

"  My  dear  old  friends." 

That  was  something  more  than  a  "  sky- 
rocket ; "  it  might  perhaps  in  its  effect  be  com- 
pared to  the  ascension  and  bursting  of  a  gor- 
geous bomb  —  unexpectedly  in  so  far  as  little 
Salie  Livingston  and  the  stately  young  matron, 
Mrs.  Morris  was  concerned.  These  two  ladies 
were  so  far  j  olted  out  of  their  social  training  as 
to  stare  broadly.  This  woman  at  a  family  din- 
ner !  To  be  sure  they  knew  nothing  of  her  ex- 


198  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

cept  that  she  was  dazzingly  handsome.  But 
it  was  enough  in  that  she  claimed  such  extraor- 
dinarily friendly  relations  with  their  husbands. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  received  enlightenment  when 
she  was  introduced  and  the  ladies  names  were 
pronounced.  But  she  did  not  wince  in  the 
least. 

"  If  this  isn't  delightful ! "  she  exclaimed  in 
lively  fashion. 

Morris  and  Bob  regained  themselves  suffi- 
ciently to  speak,  "  How  do  you  do  —  delight- 
ful," said  Morris  heavily. 

"  How  do  you  do  —  delightful "  chimed 
young  Livingston.  A  little  bird  from  whom 
somebody  sought  to  steal  a  fat  worm  would  not 
have  looked  more  furious  than  did  little  Mrs. 
Bob. 

And  Marion  turned  with  dancing  eyes  from 
the  group  to  behold  Whitney  closely  beside  her, 
his  wise  eyes  curiously  and  pleasantly  studying 
her. 

"  I  always  said,  Marion,"  he  declared  softly, 
only  for  her  ears ;  "  that  you  were  a  wonder  at 
getting  up  interesting  and  congenial  parties." 

She  made  him  a  little  imperative  motion  of 
silence.  But  he  went  on  smiling  and  asked, 


OLIVER'S  TIE  199 

"  What's  your  little  game  ?  " 

She  considered  an  instant  and  then  looked  up 
brightly  and  bravely : 

"  Game  ?  Why  I'm  having  the  time  of  my 
life  playing  '  Puss,  in  the  corner.' ' 

Whitney  nodded  appreciatively  and  they  both 
observed  with  enjoyment  little  Salie  and  heard 
her  whisper  tragically : 

"  Bobby  —  Bobby,  you  never  told  me  you 
knew  Mrs.  Blakemore." 

Mrs.  Blakemore  heard  too. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  said  with  an  exquisite  shad- 
ing of  malice  in  her  voice,  "  your  husband  and  I 
are  old  friends." 

"  Oh,  yes ! "  assented  Bob  miserably.  And 
then  by  way  of  toning  down  her  vivid  use  of 
'  old  friends '  he  asked  uncertainly,  thought- 
fully; 

"  Er  —  where  was  it  we  met  ?  " 

Mrs.  Blakemore  enjoyingly  asserted: 

"  Why,  you  must  remember  —  two  years 
ago."  She  paused  and  she  put  tenderness  of 
sweet  degree  into  the  reminiscent  end  of  her 
speech ; 

"  Atlanta ! " 

"  Oh,  yes,  Atlanta,"  said  Bobby  painfully. 


200  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

4*  Such  good  friends,"  commented  Salie  icily, 
"  and  you  don't  remember,"  she  pinioned  Bob 
with  her  glance ;  "  the  first  meeting !  " 

"  Of  the  Virginia  Blakemores,  Farguhar 
County?  "  asked  Marion  pleasantly. 

"  No,"  conceded  Mrs.  Blakemore  gracefully ; 
"  my  family  came  from  Georgia." 

Mrs.  BeDe  Morris,  a  party  with  the  talk  that 
had  been  going  on,  supplemented  a  glance  of 
query  toward  the  widow  by  observing: 

"  Surprising  we've  not  met  before ;  I  know 
most  of  Edward's  friends." 

"  Rather  surprising  if  you  had  met  before, 
I  should  say  Belle,"  interposed  Marion,  sending 
a  shaft  that  she  knew  the  widow  did  not  escape. 
"  New  York  is  a  large  place." 

"And,"  said  Mrs.  Blakemore  quickly  with 
gamrd  up  at  Marion's  thrust ;  "  Fve  been  in  New 
York  such  a  short  time.  You  are  such  a  charm- 
ing hostess,"  she  said  to  little  Mrs.  Stouten  in 
her  most  gracious  mMmpr.  "  One  would  think 
you  tried  to  get  all  my  friends  — " 

"Ah,"  said  Marion  swiftly,  "this  is  such  a 
small  party.  One  could  hardly  expect  to  hare 
aU  jour  old  friends." 

This  time  Mrs.  Blakemore's  wit  failed  her. 


OLIVER'S  TIE  201 

She  made  no  reply.  She  blessed  old  General 
Livingston  who  stepped  forward  just  then  with 
his  old-school  gallantry  to  say: 

"  We  should  all  be  glad,  I  am  sure,  that  this 
happy  meeting  has  been  brought  about." 

And  Stanton,  his  face  a  countenance  of  acute 
worry,  said  quickly : 

"  Won't  you  come  and  see  my  new  billiard 
table  and  how  Fve  arranged  the  room." 

Mrs.  Blakemore  nodded  a  quick  acceptance. 

"  We'll  scarcely  have  time  before  dinner," 
said  General  Livingston. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Stanton  laughed.  "  Til  teH  you 
a  secret.  We've  a  new  cook." 

Marion  demanded: 

"A  new  cook?  " 

Mrs.  Livingston  joined  warmly: 

"  I  can't  see  why  a  new  cook  should  be  cause 
for  alarm.  I  trained  Marion  in  housekeeping." 

"  Well,  as  for  me,"  declared  Mrs.  Blakemore 
distinctly,  "  I  should  like  to  see  the  billiard 
room." 

The  effect  of  this  speech  of  the  widow  was  not 
only  disconcerting  to  Marion  but  brought  ab- 
solute dismay  to  little  Mrs.  Bob  and  a  calm 
resentment  in  the  breast  of  Mrs.  Ned  Morris, 


202  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

for  immediately  Mrs.  Blakemore  announced  her 
desire  and  started  away,  Howard  Stanton  was  at 
one  side  of  her  and  Bob  Livingston  and  Morris 
joined  her  train  and  even  old  General  Living- 
ston followed.  Whitney  alone  remained  behind 
—  his  eyes  studiously  on  Marion. 

Little  Mrs.  Bob  was  beyond  restraint. 

"  I  think,  Belle,"  she  said  to  Mrs.  Morris,  "  I 
should  like  to  see  that  table." 

She  smiled  significantly. 

"  So  should  I,"  indignantly  responded  Mrs. 
Morris. 

And  together  they  went. 

Whitney  smiled  at  Mrs.  Stanton. 

"  Won't  you  come,  Marion  ?  " 

But  then  he  saw  that  she  was  trembling ;  that 
her  eyes  were  wavering,  her  hands  tightly 
clasped.  Her  confidence  had  suddenly  deserted 
her,  had  begun  indeed  to  ebb  as  she  saw  her  hus- 
band so  readily  join  the  handsome  Southern 
woman  in  the  exit  from  the  room. 

"  Oliver,  you  won't  desert  me,  will  you?  " 
she  said,  her  voice  pathetic  because  of  the  sud- 
den feeling  of  weakness  that  had  come  over  her. 

"  Poor  little  woman,"  he  said  quickly,  "  buck 
up." 


OLIVER'S  TIE  203 

Marion  shook  her  head. 

*'  What's  the  use  of  bucking  up  ?  "  she  asked 
him,  "  if  she  bucks  off  with  him?  " 

"  There ;  there,"  he  said  in  kindly,  brotherly, 
fashion  ;  "  keep  your  nerve." 

"  Nerves !  "  she  exclaimed  helplessly.  "  Oh, 
Oliver,  I  never  knew  I  had  so  many." 

Actuated  simply  by  his  genuine  sympathy 
with  her  momentary  distress,  Whitney  had  come 
forward;  and  in  her  trouble,  in  her  knowledge 
of  his  dependable  and  honorable  friendship  she 
had  put  her  hands  upon  his  shoulders,  finding 
encouragement  to  go  on  in  what  she  had  under- 
taken by  the  feeling  of  his  sturdy,  sympathetic 
presence. 

Had  she  but  known  there  was  no  real  occasion 
for  the  doubt  and  distress  that  had  come  upon 
her.  Stanton,  once  in  the  billiard  room,  had 
looked  about  for  her.  It  was  a  pity  she  had  not 
seen  the  expression  of  renewed  anger  that  flushed 
his  countenance  when  he  observed  that  of  the 
party  there  were  two  absentees  —  herself  and 
Oliver  Whitney. 

He  did  not  hesitate  about  instantly  making 
his  excuse  and  starting  back  to  the  library 
where  he  had  left  them.  His  suspicion  got  new 


204  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

impetus  quite  naturally  from  the  attitude  in 
which  he  found  them  standing. 

"  Marion,"  he  called  with  bitter  sharpness ; 
"  what  are  you  doing  ?  " 

She  hesitated  for  just  a  little  while  and  then 
over  Whitney's  shoulder  she  said  very  prettily 
to  her  wrathful  husband. 

"  Doing?     Why  I  am  tying  Oliver's  tie." 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE     ALL-SEEING    EYE 

WILSON  declaring  that  dinner  was  served 
banished  for  the  moment  the  angry  out- 
burst that  was  on  Stanton's  lips  when  he  dis- 
covered Whitney  and  his  wife  for  the  second 
time  that  night  in  an  attitude  that  suggested  a 
great  familarity  between  them. 

When,  a  few  moments  later,  the  young  hostess 
surveyed  her  company  around  the  table,  it  must 
have  been  with  the  same  satisfaction  that  a  gen- 
eral looks  over  his  forces  and  finds  them  all  well 
arranged  for  the  conflict. 

Here  she  had  the  woman  of  whom  her  husband 
was  enamoured  facing  three  of  her  old  admirers ; 
three  men  whose  memories  of  her  were  packed 
away  in  the  bachelor  chests  of  dead  romances 
and  two  of  the  men  at  least  in  deadly  fear  lest 
the  ghosts  should  stalk  in  upon  the  feast.  Here 
she  had  her  rival  pinned  to  the  wall  as  it  were 
by  the  living  facts  of  her  past  —  here,  indeed, 
205 


206  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

she  had  the  evidence  to  lay  before  her  husband's 
eyes  that  he  was  only  one  of  many ;  that  he  was 
merely  the  latest  to  dangle  at  the  end  of  the 
widow's  chain. 

A  more  delicate  problem  now  confronted  her, 
however.  To  lay  these  facts  before  him,  not 
by  her  own  word  of  mouth  which  he  might  ac- 
count as  the  irresponsible  talk  of  a  jealous 
woman,  an  effect  that  would  have  incalculable 
danger;  but  by  a  tactful  arrangement  of  events 
to  transpire  before  the  party  departed  from 
her  house  on  this  night  —  such  was  her  task. 

And  even  while  with  bright  eyes  she  scanned 
their  faces,  her  mind  working  busily  with  the 
complexities  of  what  she  had  to  accomplish,  the 
while  she  graciously  performed  her  duties  as 
hostess;  an  unexpected  element  was  preparing 
to  invade  her  home  —  a  figure  that  she  and  her 
husband  had  forgotten. 

A  dead  silence  in  the  Stanton  home  had 
greeted  the  newspaper  reporters  since  the  day 
when  as  Mr.  Lynch  had  expressed  it,  the  "  story 
broke."  The  offices  of  the  Livingston  family 
lawyers  and  the  Stanton  family  lawyers  had  been 
closely  watched,  efforts  had  been  repeatedly 
made  to  interview  Howard  and  Marion  and  other 


THE  ALL-SEEING  EYE        207 

members  of  the  family,  but  as  nothing  was 
forthcoming,  the  newspapers  had  to  content 
themselves  with  publishing  a  few  more  rumors 
—  rumors  of  divorce  that  grew  weaker  day  by 
day  and  finally  disappeared  entirely  from  the 
columns  of  the  public  prints. 

However,  the  story  was  too  "  big ; "  the  per- 
sons concerned  in  it  altogether  too  socially 
prominent  for  the  city  editors  to  forget  the 
interesting  automobile  accident  or  for  them  to 
relinquish  efforts  to  identify  the  woman  who  had 
been  Stanton's  companion  when  the  automobile 
whirled  over  into  the  ditch. 

The  very  secrecy  with  which  this  identity  was 
kept  by  all  the  persons  in  the  case  who  might 
be  expected  to  know  it;  the  very  fact  that  it 
seemed  the  most  important  "  lead  "  on  the  story 
and  unattainable  kept  whetted  the  desire  of  the 
news-gatherers  to  find  it  out. 

And  young  Mr.  Lynch  had  not  been  idle. 
Divers  roads  of  information  were  at  his  hand. 
In  the  first  place,  Mr.  Howard  Stanton  and  his 
big  red  car  were  very  well  known  along  Broad- 
way and  Mr.  Stanton  himself  a  familiar  figure  in 
the  big,  luxurious  restaurants.  And  Mr.  Lynch 
had  speaking  acquaintances  in  all  those  places. 


208  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

It  came  about  then  that  he  was  able  to  obtain 
the  name  of  the  tall,  black-haired  woman  who 
had  so  often  been  Stanton's  companion  in  the 
past  few  months.  This  was  accomplished  with 
a  few  deft,  bland  words  to  the  young  ladies  at 
the  telephone  boards  who  had  from  time  to  time 
taken  messages  left  at  the  restaurant  between 
Stanton  and  Mrs.  Blakemore.  And  Mr.  Lynch, 
tracing  the  widow,  to  her  apartments  was  able 
to  gather  the  facts  of  her  return  very  late  on 
the  night  of  the  New  Haven  accident  and  of 
the  necessity  that  there  had  been  for  one  of  the 
hall  boys  to  aid  her  gentleman  escort  in  helping 
the  shocked  and  nervous  woman  from  the  auto- 
mobile that  had  rescued  her  from  the  road. 

Young  Mr.  Lynch  with  this  information  in 
his  keen  mind,  was  therefore  to  have  been  found 
on  his  way  to  the  Stanton  mansion  on  this  night 
that  Marion  had  set  apart  for  the  dinner  of  the 
family  and  the  old  intimates  of  her  beautiful 
rival. 

The  great  fireplace  in  the  dining  room  sent  a 
hospitable  glow  on  the  guests  and  the  lights  of 
the  candles  added  to  the  coziness  and  soft  bril- 
liancy of  the  fine  room's  coloring.  A  great  old 
clock  —  an  heirloom  —  ticked  heavily  above  the 


THE  ALL-SEEING  EYE          209 

big,  mahogany  doors.  And  for  a  while  its  tick- 
ing was  plainly  heard  as  the  other  diners  gen- 
erally regarded  with  amusement  the  engrossed 
air  of  old  General  Livingston  who  was  bending 
toward  the  widow  with  all  his  famous  old  gal- 
lantry of  manner. 

The  widow  tapped  him  on  the  arm  and  smiled 
delightfully. 

"  Come,  come,  general  .  .  .  You  gentlemen 
of  the  old  school  are  too  gallant." 

"  Now,  now,"  said  the  general  with  a  beau's 
wag  of  his  silver-haired  head ;  "  that  was  a 
secret.  You  must  not  let  Mrs.  Livingston 
know  how  prettily  I  pay  compliments.  She'll 
be  making  me  do  it  all  the  time." 

"  Will  you  listen  to  that  old  humbug ! "  said 
Marion  across  the  table. 

"  Do  I  understand  that  you  really  pay  com- 
pliments ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Blakemore. 

"Why,"  declared  little  Mrs.  Bob,  and  not 
altogether  humorously,  "  he's  been  flirting 
shamefully.  As  a  married  woman  I  felt  almost 
compelled  to  interfere." 

The  general  and  the  handsome  widow  joined 
in  making  great  protests  at  this  characteriza- 
tion of  their  talk. 


210  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

Mr.  Oliver  Whitney  arose  and  rapped  the 
table. 

"  Being  the  only  unmarried  and  therefore  un- 
prejudiced man  present,"  said  he  unctuously,  "  I 
feel  called  to  the  judicial  position." 

He  eyed  Mrs.  Blakemore  boldly  and  then 
dryly  demanded: 

"  Now,  siren,  what  have  you  to  say  for  your- 
self? " 

"Am  I  allowed  counsel?"  the  widow  flashed 
back. 

Whitney  allowed  his  eye  to  travel  slowly  to 
three  countenances  —  those  of  Stanton,  of  Mor- 
ris and  of  Bob  Livingston. 

"  I  dare  counsel  to  appear,"  he  said. 

"  Dare ! " 

It  was  Stanton. 

"  Why  — " 

That  was  Morris, 
«  j »> 

That  was  all  that  came  from  Bob. 
"  Robert,"  sang  Salie. 
"  Yes,  dear,"  he  said  meekly. 
Mrs.   Blakemore  looked   at   big  boyish   Bob 
wickedly  and  reproachfully. 


THE  ALL-SEEING  EYE 

"And  I  was  just  going  to  choose  you,"  she 
commented. 

The  situation  had  gone  beyond  that  which 
Whitney  had  anticipated.  So  he  said  quickly : 

"  The  sentence  of  the  court  is  that  General 
Livingston  shall  pay  a  compliment  to  each  lady 
present  at  once." 

"  Impossible ! "  cried  the  old  man  waving  his 
serviette  by  way  of  a  white  flag. 

"  Oh  —  general  —  for   shame !  "" 

This  was  what  came  to  him  from  the  women. 

"  The  condemned  refuses,"  bantered  Whitney. 

The  general  arose.  He  made  his  finest,  most 
courtly  and  sweeping  bow. 

"  He  must  refuse,"  he  said.  "  The  most 
charming  things  would  merely  be  the  truth." 

Whitney  threw  out  his  hands,  palms  outward. 

"  What  chance  have  we  young  fellows  against 
that?" 

Stanton  turned  away  from  the  general 
laughter  to  receive  a  message  from  Wilson.  It 
was  evidently  disconcerting. 

"  Tell  him  I  cannot  see  him,"  he  whispered  to 
the  butler. 

"Anything     important,     Howard?"     asked 


212  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

Moms,  noting  the  disturbed  expression  that 
had  come  upon  his  brother-in-law's  countenance. 
"  Newspaper  reporter,"  returned  Stanton. 
Both  men  looked  at  each  other,  their  lips  com- 
pressed, their  eyes  alarmed  and  speculative. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

MR.    LYNCH    REBUFFED 

WHEN  Stanton  announced  to  Morris  that 
there  was  a  newspaper  reporter  outside 
that  gentleman's  exclamation  of  alarm  was 
thoroughly  justified  as  were  the  perturbed  con- 
dition into  which  young  Mr.  Stanton's  mind  was 
thrown. 

Both  these  gentlemen  were  able  to  reason  that 
the  probable  cause  of  the  newspapers  again  tak- 
ing up  the  trail  of  the  automobile  sensation  must 
be  because  they  had  discovered  the  identity  of 
Stanton's  companion  on  the  misadventurous 
ride.  Other  than  this  question  of  who  had 
really  been  the  companion  of  the  young  million- 
aire had  been  thoroughly  threshed  out,  turned 
inside  out,  exploited,  commented  upon. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  might  have  known  the  same 

discomfiture,  but  at  this  time  she  had  not  heard 

Stanton's  answer  to  Morris'  question.     Marion, 

however,   had.     And  she   was  as   greatly   per- 

213 


A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

turbed  as  the  two  men.  For  the  identity  of 
Mrs.  Blakemore  to  be  made  known  at  this 
moment  would  surely  defeat  the  purpose  of  her 
dinner  party,  for,  of  course,  it  would  be  bound 
to  lead  to  an  embarrassing  situation  out  of 
which  the  widow  would  naturally  seek  to  escape 
by  leaving  the  house,  in  apparent  affability,  of 
course,  but  in  all  probability  with  her  mind 
more  firmly  made  up  than  ever  to  win  Howard 
Stanton's  love,  even  if  merely  by  way  of  re- 
venge; to  take  what  the  other  woman  wanted, 
the  woman  who  had  used  subtle  strategy  against 
her. 

Marion  was  on  the  point  of  speaking  to 
Howard,  of  requesting  him  to  have  no  dealings 
with  the  reporters  when  Bob  said : 

"  What's  the  reporter's  name,  Howard?  I 
know  some  of  those  fellows." 

Young  Livingston,  a  prominent  athlete  of 
his  college  and  afterwards  connected  with  an 
important  firm  of  corporation  lawyers  had 
naturally  from  time  to  time  had  meetings  with 
the  men  of  the  newspapers  and  in  return  for  his 
innate  courtesy,  lack  of  silly  condescension  to- 
ward them  and  a  disposition  to  genuinely  assist 
them  toward  obtaining  satisfactory  results  in 


1VIR.  LYNCH  REBUFFED         215 

their  admittedly  difficult  work ;  counted  many 
friends  among  the  reporters  and  had  young 
Mrs.  Stanton  known  the  craft  as  intimately  as 
did  her  brother,  she  would  have  realized  that 
she  had  been  spared  much  —  as  much  as  she 
could  be  —  by  the  newspapermen  who  had  been 
investigating  and  writing  the  stories  of  the  auto- 
mobile accident. 

But  Bob's  statement  that  he  had  acquaint- 
ances among  reporters  was  not  pleasing  to  little 
Salie. 

"  I  wish,  Bobby,"  she  admonished,  "  you'd  be 
more  careful  with  whom  you  associate." 
"  Why,"  she  said  incisively,  "  the  first  thing  you 
know  you  will  be  mixed  up  in  some  scandal 
next." 

She  was  quite  unconscious  of  the  straighten- 
ing of  a  number  of  backs,  the  half -startled  ex- 
pression that  came  from  several  pairs  of  eyes. 
And  Mrs.  Blakemore's  eyes  were  of  these. 

"  If  I  am  dear,"  replied  Bob  warmly  for  him, 
when  answering  his  little,  dictatorial  wife ; 
"  you'll  thank  heaven  I  know  them.  They're 
the  squarest  bunch  in  the  world  —  to  their 
friends. 

Marion  studied  Howard  Stanton's  face. 


216  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Bobby  asked  you  the  reporter's  name, 
Howard,"  she  reminded  him. 

"  Er  —  ah,  Lynch  I  believe,"  said  Stanton. 

"  Sounds  horribly  Southern,"  said  Mrs. 
Blakemore  and  the  shudder  she  expressed  was  far 
from  being  merely  assumed. 

"  What  is  it,  Wilson,"  asked  Stanton  for  the 
butler  had  returned  to  the  room  and  taken  his 
place  at  his  master's  side  evidently  with  a 
further  message  to  deliver. 

Wilson  replied  in  a  low  tone  but  one  that  was 
quite  audible  to  the  entire  company  in  the 
strained  attention  that  he  got: 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir,  but  the  reporter  says  that 
it  is  very  important  —  says  that  it  is  very  im- 
portant, sir,  and  —  and  — " 

"Well,  and  what?" 

"  And  that  you'll  regret  it  if  you  don't  see 
him,  sir." 

"  What  impudence,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Stanton, 
senior,  with  an  indignant  swelling  of  her  be- 
jeweled  bosom. 

"  I  don't  know  what  we  are  coming  to  in 
this  country,"  said  Mrs.  Livingston  less  loudly 
but  quite  as  indignantly. 

"  Why,  it's  nothing  less  than  a  threat,"  said 


MR.  LYNCH  REBUFFED        217 

Mrs.  Belle  Morris  and  turned  upon  her  hus- 
band. "  Edward,"  she  asked,  "  why  don't  you 
speak  to  him  ?  " 

Inwardly  Morris  squirmed.  Outwardly  he 
assumed  a  crushingly  superior  attitude  toward 
his  wife. 

"  This  is  something  you  know  nothing  of, 
dear,"  he  said. 

"  And  he  is  your  friend,  Bobby  —  this  re- 
porter my  husband's  friend?  "  demanded  Salie 
contemptuously. 

But  Bob  again  controverted  her. 

"  Yes  —  praise  heaven,  he  is  my  friend,"  de- 
clared Bob  Livingston. 

"  Are  you  going  to  receive  him,  Howard?  " 
asked  Marion. 

There  was  a  general  pause.  Young  Living- 
ston and  Morris  fixed  eyes  of  forbidding  warn- 
ing on  Stanton.  They  fairly  choked  with  a  sud- 
den sensation  of  gratitude  when  General  Liv- 
ingston explosively  said: 

"  Marion,  you  cannot  expect  Howard  to  be 
bullied  into  receiving  such  a  person.  It  is  an 
outrage." 

And  Mrs.  Blakemore,  seeing  an  opportunity 
to  join  not  too  conspicuously  in  the  protest, 


218  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

said  with  a  feeling  deeper  than  she  cared  to 
show : 

"  I  think  nowadays  people  of  position  are 
too  lenient  with  that  class.  The  papers  are 
plainly  taking  advantage  of  it.  They  are  be- 
coming entirely  too  aggressive  and  impertinent, 
attempting  to  regulate  the  entire  community. 
For  my  own  part,"  she  said  with  an  assumption 
of  carelessness,  toying  with  the  stem  of  her  wine 
glass,  "  I  make  it  a  rule  never  to  speak  to  one 
of  them." 

She  was  not  entirely  prepossessed  by  the 
glance  that  she  saw  that  Oliver  Whitney  had  on 
her  while  she  spoke.  But  she  finished  her 
speech  calmly  and  without  wavering.  She  even 
received  his  drawling  comment  on  her  observa- 
tion coolly. 

"  Yes ;  "  he  said  slowly.  "  I  know  a  lot  of 
people  that  way." 

"  Show  the  reporter  out,  Wilson,"  said  Stan- 
ton.  Having  spoken  the  words  he  felt  great 
relief  himself  and  never  in  his  life  perhaps  had 
spoken  so  few  words  that  had  given  such  com- 
plete satisfaction  to  so  many  persons  at  one 
time. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Wilson,  and  with  equal  sat- 


MR.  LYNCH  REBUFFED         219 

isfaction  the  interested  ones  watched  the  butler 
depart. 

"  Do  papers  in  the  South  take  such  unwar- 
ranted liberties,  Mrs.  Blakemore?"  Mrs.  Belle 
Morris  took  occasion  to  ask. 

"  O,  my  goodness,  no ! "  replied  the  widow 
with  warmth.  "  If  you  don't  want  anything 
in,"  she  continued  smilingly,  "  you  call  up  the 
editor  and  tell  him  so  and  he  keeps  it  out." 

Marion  joined  in  the  general  laughter  and 
then  said: 

"  I  think  I  will  leave  you  gentlemen  to  your 
cigars." 

General  Livingston  shook  his  head. 

"  I  hate  sitting  around  after  dinner.  May 
we  smoke  in  the  conservatory,  Howard?  " 

"  Certainly,  General." 

The  men  arose  and  followed  Howard  and 
General  Livingston  into  the  conservatory  —  all 
except  Bob  Livingston.  The  presence  of  Mrs. 
Blakemore  at  the  dinner,  the  possibility  of  more 
reaching  Salie's  ears  of  the  old  Florida  affair  in 
which  the  widow  had  figured  as  the  adored  of  a 
fascinated  college  youth,  had  put  young  Liv- 
ingston into  a  state  of  uneasiness  well-nigh  bor- 
dering on  absolute  dejection. 


220  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

There  was  an  air  of  pleading  in  the  manner 
in  which  he  motioned  Marion  aside  and  taking 
her  to  a  far  corner  of  the  room  drew  her  to 
a  seat  on  a  mediaeval  bench  garnered  in  some 
European  monastery ;  and  there  put  his  case  be- 
fore her. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

A    SIGNAL    OF    DISTRESS 

THE  other  women  remained  seated  at  the 
table  while  Bob  and  his  sister  sat  apart, 
he  with  a  cautious  eye  always  on  Salie. 

"  Marion,"  inquired  her  brother  desperately ; 
"  what  are  we  going  to  do?  " 

"We?  Oh,  no,"  she  smiled.  "What  are 
you  going  to  do,  Bobbie?  " 

"  But,"  he  expostulated,  "  why  did  Stanton 
ask  her  here."  He  slapped  his  hand  on  his  knee. 
"  And  I  know  her.  Something  must  be  done,  I 
tell  you.  I  know  her  and  if  she  isn't  stopped 
she'll  be  coming  here  and  coming  here  and  com- 
ing here  and  —  and  — "  his  horror  was  so  great 
that  Marion  had  to  bite  her  lip  to  restrain 
audible  laughter,  "  and  — "  he  went  on,  "  call- 
ing me  Bobbie  —  Bobbie  —  Bobbie,  just  as  she 
used  to." 

He  folded  his  arms  and  shook  his  head  miser- 
ably. 

221 


222  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Only  it  won't  sound  the  same  now  —  and 
soon  Salie,"  his  voice  caught ;  "  soon  Salie  will 
be  divorced  and  —  and,  oh,  Marion,  see  here,  you 
must  save  me.  You've  simply  got  to  save  me !  " 

Marion  put  forth  her  hand  and  patted  his 
shoulder  reassuringly. 

"  Poor  boy,"  she  said.  "  You're  in  a  blue 
funk.  Oh,  I  know,  I've  watched  Salie  and  you 
since  her  introduction  to-night  to  Mrs.  Blake- 
more,  and  Salie  has  been  putting  you  through 
the  bride's  third  degree  —  you've  been  over  the 
jumps." 

"  Yes ;  all  that's  true,  Marion,"  said  Bobbie 
bitterly.  "  That  is  what  she's  been  doing. 
But  I  don't  see  what  help  there  is  in  that  for 
me  —  your  knowing  I've  been  on  the  grill  in 
the  last  hour  and  a  half." 

"  She  once  told  me,"  pursued  Marion,  "  of 
those  two  evenings  of  miserable  happiness  that 
she  spent  with  a  wet  handkerchief  forgiving 
you  stuff  you  confessed  about  your  terrible  past 
—  fake  stuff  it  was  Bobbie  —  and  if  she  finds 
out  this  real  thing !  " 

"  But  why  did  you  let  him  invite  her  here?  " 
reiterated  Bob  indignantly. 

"  I  didn't  let  him,"  she  answered. 


A  SIGNAL  OF  DISTRESS 


"  Well,  —  well,  anyway,  you  could  have  pre- 
vented it." 

Marion  drew  her  hand  away  from  her 
brother's  shoulder  and  leaned  back  and  asked  : 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  why  didn't  I  tell 
Howard  of  your  affair  a  year  ago  at  Palm 
Beach?" 

"  Yes,  —  exactly  ;  that's  just  it." 

Marion  put  up  both  her  hands  and  made  with 
her  eyes  a  further  pretense  of  being  horrified. 

"  Bobbie,"  she  demanded  ;  "  How  can  you  ? 
Don't  you  remember?  I  gave  my  solemn  word 
not  to  say  anything  about  it.  You've  never  re- 
leased me  from  that  promise.  I  couldn't  tell 
Howard,  anyhow,"  she  said  incisively  and  with 
purpose  of  which  Bobbie  did  not  know  ;  "  with 
men  I've  noticed  the  best  way  is  to  let  them  find 
out  for  themselves." 

"  Very  well,  then  there's  only  one  thing  to  be 
done,"  said  Bobbie,  hopefully.  "  I  release  you 
from  that  promise.  You  must  tell  Howard." 

But  Marion,  who  had  brought  the  conver- 
sation to  just  such  a  development,  had  in  doing 
so  an  entirely  different  idea  in  mind. 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  said  shaking  her  head,  "  you 
must  tell  Howard." 


224  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"I  —  I  —  but,  oh,  Marion,"  Bob  was  fairly 
twisting  in  his  chair.  "  You  know  him  so  much 
better  than  I  do." 

"  But,"  said  Marion ;  "  you  know  her  better 
than  I  do." 

She  waited  anxiously  then  for  what  he  would 
say.  For  the  moment  was  a  crucial  one  in  the 
complete  working  out  of  the  strategy  she  had 
planned  for  the  reclamation  of  her  husband's 
love  —  that  the  account  of  Mrs.  Blakemore's 
numerous  affairs,  the  generality  of  her  favors, 
should  reach  her  husband's  ears  through  other 
voices  than  her  own. 

She  did  not  receive  assurance  at  once.  Bob- 
bie thought  heavily  with  wrinkled  brow  for  sev- 
eral seconds  but  when  in  the  end  his  eyes  turned 
instinctively  in  the  direction  of  Salie,  his  mind 
was  made  up. 

"  Very  well,"  he  said,  with  a  sigh  as  of  relief 
over  the  decision  made ;  "  I'll  tell  him.  I'll  tell 
him  to-night. 

Marion  felt  her  heart  increase  its  throb  with 
a  sensation  of  elatement.  It  was  not  the  first 
time  that  it  had  on  this  night.  She  hoped  de- 
voutly that  in  the  end  it  would  beat  harder  than 


A  SIGNAL  OF  DISTRESS         225 

ever  with  the  certain  knowledge  of  the  victory 
wholly  won. 

Bob  arose.  He  shot  his  cuffs.  He  half 
started  forward.  Then  he  came  back.  Evi- 
dently his  decision  had  taken  much  off  his  mind 
for  he  found  the  heart  to  grin  now  when  he  ob- 
served. 

"  Sh  —  sis,  here  comes  old  fat  Morris.  He's 
the  good  thing.  I  introduced  him  to-  her  in 
Washington  —  thinks  she  is  an  angel."-  He 
gazed  at  the  portly  lawyer  commiseratingly. 
"  Poor  sucker,"  he  said  inelegantly,  but  for- 
cibly. 

Mr.  Edward  Morris,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  was 
suffering  much  of  the  same  uneasiness  as  had 
brought  Bob  Livingston  to  the  point  where  he 
decided  Howard  must  be  told  of  his  old  romance 
in  an  effort  to  keep  the  widow  from  becoming  a 
familiar  in  the  Stanton  household  and  in  that 
manner  seeing  much  of  Salie  and  perhaps  re- 
counting things  that  would  —  the  young  bride- 
groom felt  very  sure  it  would  —  prove  utterly 
destructive  and  disastrous  to  the  principal  love 
affair  of  his  life  —  that  of  himself  and  his  wife. 

Mr.  Morris,  his  own  matrimonial  ardor  much 


226  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

cooler,  was  nevertheless  as  fully  concerned  for 
what  might  happen  if  his  wife,  Belle,  and  Mrs. 
Blakemore  should  become  intimate,  or  if  in  any 
way  the  facts  regarding  certain  tender  scenes 
in  Washington  got  to  her  ears. 

He  had  been  genuinely  dismayed  therefore  to 
observe  that  of  the  men  in  the  smoking-room, 
Bobbie  Livingston  was  not  among  them.  What 
if  Mrs.  Blakemore  on  the  one  side  and  Belle  on 
the  other,  her  suspicions  aroused  by  the  in- 
troduction early  in  the  evening  when  the  widow 
had  made  it  plain  that  at  some  time  in  his  life 
he  had  been  a  friend  on  terms  of  intimacy  with 
her  —  what  if  with  Belle  questioning  and  Mrs. 
Blakemore  collaborating  the  two  skillful 
women  drew  out  of  helpless  Bobbie  sufficient  to 
open  the  eyes  of  Mrs.  Morris.  Of  course,  there 
never  had  been  anything  —  never  anything  — 
and  Mr.  Morris  coughed  to  himself  as  he  re- 
viewed the  matter  in  his  legal  mind  —  never  any- 
thing that  would  really  justify  any  legal  action 
on  his  wife's  part.  It  had  never  been  as  bad 
as  that.  But  Belle  was  nevertheless  a  jealous 
woman.  And  who  can  tell  what  a  woman  will 
do?  Who  could  say  whether  Belle  might  not 
take  it  into  her  head  to  make  a  mountain  of 


A  SIGNAL  OF  DISTRESS 

scandal  out  of  a  mere  mole  hill  of  flirtation? 
Life  as  it  was,  was  very  agreeable  to  Mr.  Morris. 
He  had  been  quite  penniless  himself,  save  for  the 
scant  earnings  which  had  rewarded  the  first  years 
of  his  practice  of  the  law.  But  out  of  these 
scant  earnings  he  had  been  as  liberal  as  pos- 
sible with  his  tailor  and  he  had  burned  devoutly 
the  incense  of  conformity  to  all  the  niceties  of 
the  conventions-  of  society  and  though  neither 
brilliant,  surpassingly  handsome,  nor,  in  fact, 
having  any  marked  achievements  or  accomplish- 
ments, or  great  promise  —  he  had  nevertheless 
fitted  acceptably  into  the  smart  world,  was  ad- 
mitted to  good  clubs  and  good  houses  and 
finally  had  accomplished  his  secret  ambition. 
He  married  money  and  position  —  a  lot  of 
the  first  and  a  very  acceptable  quality  of  the 
latter.  Nor  had  he  been  forced  to  accept  an 
ugly  duckling  in  the  process.  Mrs.  Belle 
Morris  was  handsome,  with  grace  and  stateli- 
ness  of  figure.  Mr.  Morris  had  done  very  well. 
He  therefore  looked  with  consternation  on  any 
threatened  pouring  of  troubled  waters  upon 
the  smooth,  rich  and  yellow  sands  of  life  where 
he  walked  with  so  much  dignity  and  self-satis- 
faction. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

MORRIS    ENLISTED 

Tt  JfR.  EDWARD  MORRIS  was  much  re- 
J^VJL  lieved  when  he  returned  to  where  the 
women  were,  to  find  that  Bobbie  had  not  fallen 
into  the  clutches  of  Belle  and  Mrs.  Blakemore 
but  was  earnestly  talking  to  Marion.  It  was 
plain,  however,  that  their  talk  was  not  of  a  usual 
character.  He  happened  also  to  see  the  face  of 
Salie  and  she  looked  piqued  to  the  point  of 
anger.  This  was  partly  due  to  Bob's  five  min- 
utes of  desertion  of  her  and  to  the  presence  of 
Mrs.  Blakemore.  Her  glances  toward  that  lady 
were  far  from  affectionate.  Morris  seeing  this, 
wondered  if  —  if  —  and  then,  hei  caught  sight) 
of  the  face  of  Belle,  his  wife.  It  was  calm. 
She  even  looked  at  him  and  smiled. 

He  felt  better.     She  did  not  know.     Nothing 
had  happened,     Bob  hadn't  talked.     Neverthe- 
less, he  walked  over  to  Marion  and  young  Liv- 
228 


MORRIS  ENLISTED  229 

ingston  and  when  he  had  reached  them,  said  in 
confidential  tones: 

"  You  two  seem  always  to  be  conspiring. 
What  is  it  this  time?  " 

"  Nothing  to  alarm  you,"  replied  Marion 
quietly.  "  Don't  look  so  worried." 

"I  —  worried  ?  "  he  asked  in  his  best  manner 
of  superiority. 

"  You  look  as  worried  as  a  baby  with  a  sore- 
tooth,"  said  young  Livingston  with  enjoyment. 
"  Honestly,  Ned,  you  look  all  in.  What  have 
you  on  your  mind?  " 

"  On  my  mind? "  he  answered  gravely. 
"  Nothing." 

He  frowned  at  the  consequent  laughter  of 
Marion  and  Bob. 

"  No  one  ever  accused  Ned  of  having  any- 
thing on  his  mind,"  said  Marion  with  mock  in- 
dignation. 

Bob  laughed  in  the  face  of  Morris'  wounded 
dignity  and  drew  off. 

"  All  right,  Marion,"  he  said,  "  I'm  going  for 
a  smoke.  I'll  remember,  Marion,"  he  reassured 
her  on  departing. 

Morris  looked  after  him  unapprovingly. 


230  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

Then  Marion  jolted  him  by  saying: 

"  Hadn't  you  better  confess  ?  " 

"Confess?" 

"  As  to  what  is  worrying  you  ?  " 

"  What  makes  you  think  I  have  anything  to 
confess?  " 

"  I  don't  think." 

"  You  don't  think  ?  You  mean  to  say 
that  — " 

"  Yes ;  I  mean  to  say  that  I  don't  think,  Ned, 
because,  I  know." 

Morris  moved  over  and  took  a  seat  where  Bob 
had  been.  It  occurred  to  Marion  that  there  was 
something  amusingly  appropriate  in  the  fact 
that  it  was  a  monastery  chair  on  which  he  sat. 
It  rather  suggested  the  confessional. 

"  I  don't  understand,"  said  Morris,  but  the 
manner  in  which  his  eyes  sought  out  Belle  as 
she  sat  in  the  group  with  the  other  women 
plainly  indicated  that  he  fully  understood. 

However,  this  mere  bringing  the  thing  to  his 
mind  was  not  the  achievement  Marion  sought. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  army  and  navy  game 
last  fall  ?  "  asked  Marion. 

Morris  was  honestly  mystified  now. 


MORRIS  ENLISTED 

"  The  army  and  navy  game  ?  "  he  inquired. 
"Why,  no;  I  didn't  go." 

"  Of  course,  you  don't  remember  it,  and  of 
course,  you  didn't  go." 

Marion's  voice  now  went  down  almost  to  a 
whisper. 

"  I  remember  very  well  that  you  did  not  go 
and  that  Belle  was  crazy  to  go  and  that  you 
couldn't  take  her." 

"Well?"  asked  Morris. 

"  You  were  too  busy  with  a  '  client ' — " 

Little  Marion  lingered  mischievously  on  the 
last  word. 

Morris  drew  himself  up  on  the  big  bench. 

"  Ah  —  yes ;  I  remember ;  I  was  very  busy  at 
the  time  —  ah  —  very,  very  busy  that  day." 

His  sister-in-law  laughed. 

"  What  makes  you  think  I  was  not  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  O,  indeed,  you  were,"  she  assented  heartily. 
"  What  an  absorbing  profession  the  law  is. 
After  the  game ;  in  the  Walton  — "  she  paused 
and  the  mention  of  the  hotel  name  visibly  af- 
fected Morris,  "  I  sat  three  tables  behind  you 
and  your  client,  and  we  never  saw  you  that  day 


232  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

and  I  doubt  if  you  saw  us  at  all  any  time  that 
day.  How  do  you  concentrate  — " 

Morris  threw  up  his  hands.  He  stood  up. 
He  shot  a  swift  look  toward  Belle,  reverted  his 
eyes  to  the  fire-place,  tugged  with  his  teeth  an 
instant  at  his  closely  cropped  mustache  and 
finally,  with  a  hand  wave  that  figuratively  held 
a  white  flag,  for  it  was  a  gesture  of  surrender, 
he  said,  or  rather  fearsomely  whispered: 

"  But  if  you  guessed  everything,  why  —  why, 
Marion,  did  you  let  her  come  and  —  me  come?  " 

Marion  shrugged  her  shoulders  lightly. 

"  I  didn't  think  it  would  do  any  harm,"  she 
said. 

"  Well, —  well,  now  you  see,  that  it  will." 

"  How?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Morris.  "  But  —  well, 
what's  going  to  happen  ?  " 

"  Ah,"  said  Marion  wisely,  "  I  see.  You 
think  that  if  she  isn't  stopped  she'll  be  coming 
here,  coming  here,  coming  here  and  calling  you, 
Ned  —  Ned — "  very  sweetly —  "Neddie,  just 
as  she  used  to  do  —  only  it  won't  sound  the 
same  —  and  soon  Belle  will  hear  of  it  and  Belle 
will  get  a  divorce." 


MORRIS  ENLISTED  233 

Marion's  adaption  of  Bobbie's  plaint  proved 
highly  effective. 

Morris  clasped  his  hands  at  his  sides ;  his  face 
whitened. 

"  Good  God,"  he  was  startled  into  exclaiming. 
"  Oh,  Marion,  Howard  must  be  told.  He 
simply  must  be  told  —  must  be  told,"  he  went  on 
in  his  excitement. 

"Who's  to  tell  him?  Mrs.  Blakemore?  " 
asked  Marion. 

«  why  — " 

"  Because  if  that  is  what  you  expect,  I  hardly 
think  it  is  likely  that  she  will." 

He  looked  closely  at  her,  biting  nervously  at 
his  mustache  again. 

"  You  mean  then  that  I  must  ?  " 

She  tried  to  hold  down  her  earnestness.  She 
spoke  carelessly  and  lightly: 

"  Just  as  you  feel  about  it.  Of  course,  if 
you'd  rather  have  Belle  find  out." 

Morris  put  up  his  hand  with  a  hasty,  despair- 
ing gesture  —  put  up  a  hand  to  stop  her  speak- 
ing. 

"  I'll  tell  him,"  he  blurted.  Then  being  one 
that  would  rather  not  be  considered  selfish  under 


234  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

any  circumstances,  being  one  anxious  to  stand 
well  in  the  eyes  of  others  and  having  a  pleasantly 
ready  mind  to  twist  all  things  that  he  did  into 
its  most  favorable  appearance,  lie  added: 
"  After  all  he  should  understand  —  it  is  only 
right  that  he  should  not  be  left  in  the  dark  — 
that  he  be  given  an  opportunity  to  know,  er  — 
to—" 

"  Yes ; "  said  Marion  firmly,  "  I  count  upon 
you  making  him  understand." 

"  And,  Bobbie,"  he  said  retrospectively ; 
"  well,  Bobbie  knows  nothing." 

"Bobbie?" 

"  He  introduced  me,  don't  you  see?  Of 
course,  he  —  why  —  he,"  Morris  lifted  his  eye- 
brows. "  Why  to  her  —  he  was  a  child." 

"  Oh,"  said  Marion.  "  He  —  he  introduced 
you  —  he  was  the  good  thing  —  he  thinks  her 
an  angel  from  heaven  —  poor  — " 

"  He  doesn't  even  suspect  the  truth." 

"  I'm  sure  of  that,"  agreed  Marion,  unable 
however  to  repress  a  start  of  amusement  in  her 
eyes. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Morris  heavily  with  a  tinge 
of  self-exaltation,  "  a  woman  like  Mrs.  Blake~ 


MORRIS  ENLISTED  235 

more  cannot  be  interested  in  the  antics  of  raw 
boys." 

"  Of  course  not,"  agreed  Marion,  liking  the 
sensation  of  seeing  him  turn  around  on  her  fin- 
ger ;  "  To  interest  her  it  requires  a  man  of  poise, 
a  man  of  dignity,  experience,  brain,  substance, 
of  weight  —  one  like  yourself,  for  instance, 
Ned." 

"  It  is  wonderful,"  said  Morris  expansively, 
"  how  congenial  she  and  I  are." 

Oliver  Whitney,  more  than  suspecting  the 
purport  of  the  interviews  that  Marion  had  had 
with  her  brother,  and  was  now  having  with  Mor- 
ris, sauntered  toward  the  two  as  they  stood  there. 
He  was  able  to  read  deftly  in  Marion's  eyes  that 
he  was  not  arriving  too  —  that  his  coming  was 
not  going  to  thwart  her  purpose.  So  he  came 
forward  easily. 

"  Ah,  Oliver,  have  you  come  to  confess,  too  ?  " 

He  laughed. 

"  Why,  no ;  "  he  answered.  "  Has  Morris 
confessed?  " 

"Absurd  —  confess?"  uttered  Morris. 
"  Why  how  ridiculous !  " 

"  Yes, —  very  ridiculous  Ned,"  said  Marion. 


236  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

Whereat  the  pompous  young  gentleman  grew 
greatly  confused  and  said  a  little  unsteadily ; 

"  Well,  I'll  be  going,  I  guess.  Er  — "  he 
looked  toward  Marion  significantly.  "  I  wish 
to  speak  to  Howard.  He's  still  in  the  conser- 
vatory undoubtedly." 

"  He's  a  —  with  Mrs.  Blakemore,"  volun- 
teered Whitney. 

"  Well  —  well,  I'll  go  anyway,  I'll  see  him 
when  he's  through." 

There  was  a  movement  on  the  part  of  the 
group  of  women,  Mrs.  Livingston  announcing 
to  her  daughter  that  they  wished  to  look  over 
some  engravings  that  Marion  had  purchased 
only  a  few  days  before. 

And  with  their  departure  Marion  and  Whit- 
ney were  left  standing  alone. 

They  had  hardly  been  standing  thus  two 
seconds  before  that  young  man  received  a 
highly  astounding  request  from  the  wife  of 
Howard  Stanton. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 


L.OVE    ME 


MARION,  as  she  became  aware  that  she  and 
Whitney  were  alone  in  the  room,  decided 
that  the  opportunity  was  good  for  asking  him 
to  go  further  in  favoring  her  than  she  had  ever 
done  before,  though  when  Whitney  discovered 
the  nature  of  the  request  he  would  certainly  not 
call  it  —  favoring  —  her.  Anyway,  it  was  only 
going  to  prove  a  mere  artificial  realization  for 
him  of  that  for  which  he  had  longed,  but  which 
he  had  resigned  himself  to  believe  he  would  never 
attain:  the  place  of  Marion's  lover.  Since  her 
marriage  he  had,  of  course,  entertained  no  such 
dishonorable  hope.  But  the  love  he  had  borne 
for  her  was  too  deeply  ingrained  in  his  heart  and 
soul  for  dismissal.  It  would  be  there  with  him, 
he  knew,  when  he  died. 

Marion  was  not  altogether  without  some  self- 
ishness in  asking  him  to  do  what  she  presently 
did  ask  him,  but  she  knew  he  stood  willing  to 
237 


238  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

make  any  sacrifice  for  her,  and  if  in  her  woman's 
way  she  used  him,  she  knew  that  he  would  not 
hold  her  blameworthy. 

"  They  are  all  in  it,  Oliver  — "  she  remarked 
slowly ;  "  Howard  the  worst  of  all,  I  guess." 

"  Yes,"  he  said  for  want  of  ready  words  of 
comfort.  This  polished  man  of  the  world  found 
himself  peculiarly  inapt  with  words  sometimes 
when  in  the  presence  of  the  woman  whom  he 
loved. 

"  And  I'm  miserable,"  said  Marion.  Only  to 
Whitney,  sterling  fellow  that  she  understood  him 
to  be,  would  she  have  shown  her  pain  —  to  him 
and,  perhaps,  to  her  mother.  But  her  white- 
haired  parent  could  not  help  her  now.  It  was 
not  a  situation  with  which  the  gentle  old  lady 
could  have  coped  or  could  have  aided.  In  Ma- 
rion's place  herself  she  probably  would  have 
been  in  her  boudoir  with  wet  eyes  and  smelling 
salts.  This  modern  young  woman's  way  was, 
under  the  circumstances,  proving  to  be  decidedly 
different. 

And  when  she  had  confessed  her  wretchedness, 
Whitney  said  quickly : 

"  How  can  I  help  you  ?  " 

"  Love  me,"  she  said  pathetically  and  so  earn- 


"LOVE  ME"  239 

estly  that  he  was  dumbfounded.  The  plea  was 
so  sudden  that  he  did  not  think  of  what  motive 
might  be  behind  it.  He  could  only  breathe 
quickly  and  ask : 

"  Marion,  do  you  mean  that?  " 

She  smiled  into  his  amazed  face.  And  then 
she  shook  him  by  the  shoulder. 

"  Pretend  to,  I  mean, —  don't  be  stupid,"  she 
answered  in  the  old  tone  of  banter  that  he  loved 
so  well,  but  this  time  he  heard  it  ungratefully. 
"  You  promised  to  help  me  before  dinner,"  she 
said,  her  face  lowered  and  her  eyes  raised  pret- 
tily into  his  for  assistance  and  sympathy,  "  and 
you  haven't  done  a  thing  yet." 

"  Oh,"  said  Whitney,  with  dawning  under- 
standing in  his  eyes. 

But  he  simply  stood  there  and  Marion  laughed 
at  him. 

"  You  are  not  so  very  complimentary  —  not 
so  very  eager,"  she  remonstrated.  "  Would  it 
be  so  hard,  Oliver,"  she  said  further,  "  to  love  me 
for  a  little  while?  " 

Whitney  put  his  hands  behind  him  and 
grinned  broadly. 

"  Go  as  far  as  you  like,"  he  said ;  "  don't  mind 
me." 


A  WOMAN'S  WAY 


"  You  are  a  dear,  Oliver,"  she  said  in  her  de- 
liciously  friendly  way.  "  You  must  make  him 
jealous.  If  he  is  jealous  I'll  know  he  cares  — 
if  he  doesn't  —  "  She  laid  both  her  hands  on 
his  shoulders.  "  Oh,  I  couldn't  stand  it,  Oliver, 
if  he  doesn't.  Oh,  you  must  make  him  jealous." 

Whitney  winced  for  an  instant,  but  presented 
a  wholly  resolute  face  to  her. 

"  Well,  let's  get  this  pretend  business  started," 
he  smiled  and  put  his  arm  around  her  waist. 
His  own  heart  began  bounding  then,  rapidly. 
He  wondered  if  she  thought  that  it  was  very 
hard  for  him  —  harder  than  it  had  ever  been 
since  the  time  he  had  asked  her  to  be  his  wife 
and  she,  by  force  of  not  really  loving  him,  of 
only  liking  and  admiring  him  a  great  deal,  re- 
fused —  whether  she  took  any  stock  at  all  of 
how  he  must  feel  now  with  his  arm  about  her 
and  yet  knowing  that  she  didn't  care. 

Perhaps  Marion  felt  something  of  his  trem- 
bling, perhaps  she  realized  that  in  this  moment 
she  was  putting  a  temptation  on  the  man  that 
in  its  physical  aspect  alone  might  prove  unbear- 
able or  rather  too  great  for  him  to  bear,  might 
betray  him  into  an  embrace  for  which  he  could 
hardly  be  held  accountable.  So  that  when  he 


"LOVE  ME"  241 

placed  his  arm  around  her  waist,  saying  "  Dear- 
est," she  gently  disengaged  it  and  shook  her 
head  reprovingly  and  said  to  him : 

"  Not  until  Howard  is  present  to  see,  Oliver." 

"  Oh,"  he  answered  a  little  bitterly,  "  so  I'm 
to  make  a  show  of  myself  for  Howard  —  that's 
the  idea." 

It  was  a  rather  brusque  way  of  putting  it,  but, 
after  all,  that  was  the  truth  of  the  matter. 

"  Well,"  said  Marion  apologetically,  "  I 
guess,  Oliver,  that's  the  idea  —  and  for  her  — 
for  Puss,  too." 

"Puss?" 

"  Why,"  asked  Marion  in  feigned  astonish- 
ment, "  don't  you  call  her  Puss  ?  Everybody 
else  does." 

In  the  very  instant  that  the  words  were  on  her 
lips  she  further  astonished  Whitney  by  moving 
swiftly  toward  him. 

"  There  he  is  now,'*  she  whispered  quickly, 
and  then  turning  her  face  upward  so  that  her 
eyes  looked  with  great  tenderness  into  his,  she 
said: 

"  Oliver,  dearest." 

She  had  signalled  the  presence  of  Howard 
Stanton.  He  had  entered  the  room  in  a  discon- 


A  WOMAN'S  WAY 


solate  fashion,  lounging  along  as  he  came.  But 
he  stood  up  straight  enough  now.  He  trembled 
and  he  glared.  And  held  his  hands  tightly  at 
his  sides. 

The  blow  struck  home  hard.  Hitherto,  the 
affair  of  Mrs.  Blakemore  had  only  presented  the 
aspect  of  Marion  righteously  indignant,  Ma- 
rion tremendously  annoyed,  perhaps  a  little  jeal- 
ous. He  was  not  sure  of  the  last.  She  had  not 
done  the  usual  thing  when  the  automobile  acci- 
dent had  disclosed  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Blake- 
more  in  his  life  —  she  had  not  gone  home  to 
mother.  Indeed,  he  was  utterly  at  a  loss  to  ac- 
count for  her  conduct  since.  Vaguely  he  rather 
resented  the  way  she  had  taken  the  whole  affair 
as  being  not  quite  the  proper  thing  on  her  part. 
As  it  happened  it  seemed  to  be  letting  him  off 
more  easily  than  he  deserved,  but  for  all  that 
the  whole  idea  was  so  strange  of  her  inviting 
Mrs.  Blakemore  to  the  house.  What  on  earth 
could  be  her  reason  for  bringing  the  woman  to 
the  house  at  all,  he  had  not  been  able  as  yet 
to  fathom.  Of  course,  he  understood  his  wife 
as  being  too  well-bred  to  have  Mrs.  Blakemore 
there  as  a  guest  and  then  openly  insult  or  slight 
her.  In  a  hazy  sort  of  way,  he  believed  that  his 


wife  wanted  to  bring  some  form  of  an  under- 
standing out  of  the  meeting;  though  what  it 
might  be,  his  mind  could  not  formulate. 

But  that  Marion  was  in  love  with  somebody 
else !  That  was  a  stinging  revelation.  He  was 
almost  tempted  to  rub  his  eyes  —  wondering  if 
he  had  gone  out  of  his  mind  and  become  illu- 
sionary. 

There  certainly  stood  Whitney,  tall,  well-knit, 
finely  dressed,  clear-cut  of  features,  the  stamp 
of  poise,  intelligence  and  force  of  character  all 
over  him.  And  there  looking  fondly  into  the 
man's  eyes  was  his,  Stanton's,  wife. 

Slowly  the  blood  of  anger  mounted  into  his 
cheeks,  set  his  forehead  aflush  and  his  anger 
further  shown  fiercely  from  his  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE   TEST 

STANTON  making  his  entrance  and  seeing 
Whitney  and  his  wife  in  an  attitude  of  en- 
dearment, had  as  a  matter  of  fact  been  leading 
the  way  for  Mrs.  Blakemore.  But  she  had  stood 
by  his  side  quite  neglected  from  the  instant  thai; 
he  had  perceived  Marion  with  her  arm  extended 
to  Whitney  and  her  eyes  looking  so  tenderly  into 
the  other  man's  face. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  was  not  without  perception. 
She  read  that  in  his  face  when  he  confronted  this 
spectacle  which  set  many  doubts  arising  in  her 
own  mind  regarding  the  hold  she  had  on  this 
handsome  young  millionaire.  The  trembling 
of  his  body,  the  straightening  of  it,  the  hot  flush 
of  anger  —  she  saw  all  these  things.  Yet  she 
knew  men  too ;  knew  their  nature  not  to  want 
to  give  up  what  they  possess,  even  while  they 
may  have  ceased  to  care  for  it ;  knew  the  double 
value  that  they  put  upon  the  inviolate  character 


THE  TEST  245 

of  their  own  honor  in  such  affairs  as  against  that 
which  they  should  show  toward  the  other  sex. 

It  was  she  who  led  the  way  to  a  nearby  lounge, 
with  her  finger  to  her  lips  to  caution  him  to 
silence;  causing  him  to  act  the  character  of  a 
spy  more  or  less  without  realizing  what  he  was 
doing,  or  if  any  scruples  did  come,  he  probably 
felt  that  here  was  a  case  where  he  had  absolutely 
the  right  to  be  an  eavesdropper. 

"  Oliver,  dear,"  went  on  Marion,  conscious  of 
the  presence  of  both,  "  has  the  thought  that  I 
may  be  free  soon  quite  taken  away  all  your 
powers  of  speech?  " 

This  she  said  for  them  to  hear.  But  to  Whit- 
ney she  said  in  the  merest  whisper :  "  That's 
pretty  good  for  a  starter  —  follow  up." 

Whitney  had  been  summoning  his  wits ;  form- 
ulating the  trend  of  the  ardent  talk  that  he  was 
expected  to  deliver.  He  answered  nobly  to  Ma- 
rion's command. 

"  How  can  I  speak,"  he  half  sobbed  ecstati- 
cally. "  Oh,  to  suffer  and  struggle  hopelessly  all 
these  years  and  then  to  find  myself  near  the  goal 
of  my  ultimate  desire  —  it  almost  overwhelms 
me." 

Perhaps  a  half-realization  that  much  of  his 


246  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

speech  was  true  lent  aid  to  its  impassioned  tone. 
It  certainly  rang  forth  most  genuinely. 

"  Ah,  dearest,"  he  supplemented.  And  he 
clasped  her  hands  and  pressed  them  strenuously. 

He  put  his  face  close  to  hers  so  that  Stanton 
thought  that  he  was  on  the  point  of  kissing  her 
there  and  then. 

But  he  did  not.     Instead  he  whispered: 

"  I  guess  that's  going  some." 

"  Oliver,"  she  cried  back  at  him  passionately, 
"  don't  urge  me,  dear.  Remember  I  am  still 
married.  Don't  press  me  too  hard." 

And  under  her  breath  she  said : 

"  Why  did  you  let  go  my  hands,  you  idiot. 
You're  not  pressing  anything." 

Stanton  had  involuntarily  arisen.  His  face 
was  more  than  ever  beclouded.  He  was  posi- 
tively wild  with  anger.  He  was  restraining 
himself  by  the  most  tremendous  effort. 

"  Look  —  look,"  said  Oliver,  regaining  her 
hands  and  gazing  into  her  face ;  "  look  at  me. 
Can  you  not  see  the  love  expressed  there  —  can 
you  doubt  your  eyes  ?  " 

"  I  won't  stand  this,"  muttered  Stanton,  pre- 
sumably to  his  companion  but  really  to  nobody 


THE  TEST  247 

in  particular.     It  was  merely  an  involuntary  ex- 
pression of  his  mental  attitude. 

"  Sh,"  said  Mrs.  Blakemore.     "  Look." 
The  scene  was  naturally  affording  her  delight. 
"  How  soon  can  the  divorce  be  secured,  dear- 
est," Stanton  heard  Whitney  say  with  throbbing 
earnestness. 

"  I  tell  you,"  declared  Stanton  to  Mrs.  Blake- 
more.  "  I'm  going  to  break  his  neck  —  talking 
that  way  to  my  wife !  " 

"  Why  — why  —  it's  splendid,  dear !  Listen," 
urged  the  widow. 

"  Splendid  —  nothing,"  snorted  Stanton. 
He  would  have  arisen  if  her  hand  had  not 
firmly  caught  his  arm  and  held  him  to  the  chair. 
"  If  it  had  not  been  for  that  automobile,"  was 
the  next  thing  that  Stanton  heard  and  it  was 
Marion  who  was  talking,  "  I  might  have  drifted 
on  to  the  end  of  my  days  and  never  found  out 
what  I  really  thought." 

"  Oh,  that  —  that  —  blessed  automobile  acci- 
dent," said  Whitney  joyfully. 

"  You  are  so  —  so  good,  Oliver,"  said  Ma- 
rion-softly,  tenderly, ^sweetly. 

The  detaining  hand  of  Mrs.  Blakemore  could 


248  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

hold  Stanton  no  longer.  He  shook  it  off  with  a 
cry  of  rage  and  stormed  along  the  room  to 
where  Whitney  and  his  wife  stood. 

"  This  disgraceful  scene  has  been  going  on 
long  enough,"  he  bellowed. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE  DISCARD 

IN  the  course  of  his  wealthy  bachelorhood  Oli- 
ver Whitney  may  have  fallen  into  a  blase 
inertia  regarding  the  affairs  of  life,  and  his  own 
in  particular.  Few  tasks  or  fads  really  inter- 
ested him.  Nevertheless  it  was  the  character  of 
the  man  that  whatever  he  did  attempt  to  do  he 
did  extremely  well.  In  this  case  it  was  acting 
and  Marion  Stanton  could  have  no  fault  what- 
ever to  find  with  her  "  leading  man  "  in  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  now  carried  out  the  part  of  the 
surprised  lover  confronted  by  the  angry  hus- 
band. 

As  Stanton's  cry  of  denunciation  shot  across 
their  ears  Whitney  fell  back,  first  showing  signs 
of  dismay,  then  deliberately  bracing  himself  and 
facing  the  irate  husband,  after  the  fashion  of  a 
man  who  has  clearly  been  caught,  but  intends  to 
brazen  out  the  matter. 

"  Stanton !  "  he  cried. 
249 


250  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

Marion  aided  in  the  scene  very  cleverly  her- 
self. Her  apparent  confusion  had  all  the  neces- 
sary realism  —  the  flutter  of  her  hands,  the 
quick  bowing  of  her  head,  the  rapid  shifting  of 
her  eyes. 

"  Oh,  Howard,"  she  said  and  for  a  time  seemed 
unable  to  speak  further.  .She  concluded  weakly ; 
"I  —  I  —  were  you  out  there?  Oh,  I  didn't 
know  that  — " 

Stanton  walked  toward  them  with  SL.  heavy 
stride.  He  looked  at  her  with  all  the  indignant 
fury  that  was  storming  in  his  mind.  "  I  have 
been  here,"  he  said  with  bitterness  and  slowness, 
"  since  the  beginning  of  this  disgraceful  scene." 

He  cast  a  contemptuous  glance  at  both. 

"  At  least,"  he  said,  "  I  hope  that  it  was  the 
beginning  of  the  scene." 

Whitney,  as  if  unconsciously,  drew  further 
away  from  Marion  and  his  air  continued  to  be 
that  of  the  guilty  caught  in  the  act. 

"I  —  a  —  a  —  why,  we  thought  you  were 
with  Mrs.  Blakemore." 

The  stealthy  thrust  did  not  pierce  Stanton's 
understanding. 

"  Yes,"  said  Marion,  "  we  thought  that  you 
were  surely  with  Mrs.  Blakemore." 


THE  DISCARD  251 

This  time  the  allusion  told  a  bit.  But  Stan* 
ton  was  nevertheless  too  angry  to  allow  this  ref- 
erence to  his  own  shortcomings  to  affect  the 
manner  in  which  he  felt  toward  finding  his  wife 
practically  in  the  arms  of  another  man,  and 
that  man  Whitney  of  all  others. 

He  stood  for  a  little  while  with  clenched 
hands.  It  was  on  Whitney  finally  that  his  rage 
vented  itself. 

"  Whitney,"  he  demanded,  "  how  dare  you 
make  love  to  my  wife  ?  " 

Whitney  thrust  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  lifted 
his  head  and  brought  his  eyes  absolutely  on  a 
level  with  those  of  Stanton. 

"  Stanton ! "  he  called  back  angrily  and  belli- 
gerently, "  your  wife?  Our  wife!  " 

Stanton  moved  up  to  him  with  a  clenched 
hand  drawn  back. 

Whitney  waved  a  nonchalant  hand  at  him. 

"  Oh,  you  can't  have  'em  all,  you  know,"  he 
said  tartly. 

Marion  went  over  to  her  husband  then  and 
plucked  his  sleeve.  He  drew  his  arm  away  with 
a  jerk.  But  she  put  a  warning  finger  to  him. 

"  At  least  allow  Oliver  the  discard,"  she  said 
deftly. 


252  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

Stanton's  first  answer  to  this  resembled  a  roar 
of  pain  and  anger. 

"  You,  Marion,"  he  cried  at  her.  "  You  can 
say  that  —  you,  Marion,  my  wife  ?  " 

She  nodded  strongly  in  the  affirmative. 

He  passed  his  hand  shakily  over  his  forehead. 

"  I  can't  understand  it,"  he  spluttered.  "  I 
sat  there  —  I  could  not  credit  my  ears !  " 

He  walked  up  and  down  the  room  several 
paces. 

"  In  my  house  —  you  —  my  wife ! "  His  face 
had  become  distorted  with  the  stress  of  emotion 
he  was  undergoing  as  he  spoke,  his  words  vividly 
recalling  the  scene  to  his  mind.  "  In  my 
house,"  he  repeated ;  "  you  —  my  wife  —  for- 
getting herself  —  forgetting  me !  —  answering 
the  love  speeches  of  such  a  man  —  bringing  him 
into  this  house  —  such  disgrace !  " 

He  flung  out  his  arms  at  her  and  demanded : 

"  Have  you  no  shame  ?  " 

Then  he  turned  fully  upon  her  accomplice. 

"  And  you,  Whitney  —  you  —  my  friend ! 
How  have  you  repaid  me !  " 

He  stopped  utterly  at  a  loss  to  fashion  into 
words  the  tumult  of  bitterness  and  wrath  that 
was  surging  in  him. 


THE  DISCARD  253 

And  while  his  back  was  toward  her,  Marion 
was  delightfully  signalling  to  Whitney  her  com- 
plete assurance  that  the  angered  man  really 
loved  her,  her  infinite  delight  at  the  tremendous 
anger  he  was  showing;  her  new  confidence  that 
everything  was  coming  out  as  she  had  not  only 
planned,  but  as  she  fervently  hoped. 

She  might  have  found  added  delight  to  be 
sure,  if  she  had  noted  the  absence  from  the  room 
now  of  Mrs.  Blakemore.  That  handsome 
woman  had  looked  with  something  akin  to  dis- 
may upon  Stanton's  outbreak.  It  was  becom- 
ing forcibly  impressed  on  her  that  while  she 
might  be  exercising  an  infatuation  over  the  stal- 
wart young  millionaire,  his  wife  had  been  by  no 
means  completely  ostracized  from  his  heart. 
The  eviction  of  Cupid  there,  she  could  see  was  by 
no  means  complete.  And  not  knowing  exactly 
what  Stanton  might  say  or  do  under  stress  of 
his  anger,  what  flat  statements  concerning  his 
plans  in  regard  to  herself  that  might  be  forth- 
coming from  his  lips  under  the  sting  of  the 
scene  which  he  had  witnessed  between  Oliver 
Whitney  and  his  wife,  Mrs.  Blakemore  had  de- 
cided that  this  room  was  no  longer  a  pleasant  or 
comfortable  place  in  which  to  remain.  She  had 


254  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

arisen  softly  and  with  a  parting  look  at  the 
trio,  sidled  away. 

Stanton  now  walked  away  from  both  Whitney 
and  Marion.  He  wheeled  again  and  faced  them 
as  he  declared  with  writhing  lips : 

"  My  friend  and  my  wife  in  my  own  house. 
I  brought  you  here,  Whitney  —  I  welcomed  you 
—  I  trusted  you  —  and  this  is  how  you  have  be- 
trayed my  trust  —  my  friendship  !  Have  you 
no  manhood?  "  he  snarled  at  Whitney.  "  What 
would  you  think  if  I  — " 

The  denunciation  of  Whitney  was  becoming 
too  round,  too  fierce  and  too  forcible.  Marion 
had  meant  that  Oliver  should  go  to  some  lengths 
to  assist  her  in  her  ruse,  but  she  had  not  meant 
by  any  means  to  let  him  in  for  all  this  —  had  not 
quite  sufficiently  applied  her  imagination  to  per- 
ceive perspectively  that  under  the  circumstances 
her  husband's  rage  must  turn  most  bitterly  to- 
ward the  man  whom  he  would  regard  as  a  per- 
fidious friend  in  his  home. 

"  Have  you  no  manhood  —  what  would  you 
think  if  I  — "  replied  Stanton.  He  paused  this 
second  time  not  for  lack  of  words,  but  because 
Marion  had  suddenly  darted  backwards,  clap- 
ping both  hands  to  her  ears. 


THE  DISCARD  255 

"  Did  you  hear  that  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Did  I  hear  what?  "  bawled  Stanton  angrily. 

"  I  thought,"  she  answered,  dropping  her 
hands,  "  that  I  heard  some  one  throw  a  brick 
through  a  glass  house !  " 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

ANOTHER    BRICK 

STANTON  paused  in  his  denunciation,  halted 
by  Marion's  just  and  farcical  twist  of  his 
indignation  —  her  sudden  slipping  of  the  shoe 
to  his  own  foot.  It  was  improbable,  however, 
that  with  his  ingrained  standards  of  what  should 
govern  a  woman's  conduct  and  what  should  gov- 
ern that  of  his  own  sex,  that  he  would  have  been 
in  the  least  content  to  let  the  matter  rest  there. 

But  General  Livingston  and  his  son  Bob  came 
upon  them  at  this  time  and  in  the  face  of  these 
new  arrivals  Stanton  was  reduced  to  surly  silence. 

General  Livingston  was  descanting  very  en- 
thusiastically to  his  son. 

"  A  remarkably  attractive  young  woman, 
Robert,"  he  said  with  his  fine  old  air  of  finality. 
"  Remarkably  attractive." 

Bob  nodded. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  he  said.  But  he  squirmed  as  he 
said  it 

256 


ANOTHER  BRICK  257 

All  his  own  uneasiness  flooded  back  upon  him. 

Marion  looked  at  her  father  smilingly. 

"  All  of  the  other  women  will  think  I  am  mo- 
nopolizing you  men,"  she  said.  "  I  believe  I 
will  join  them." 

She  looked  back  at  them  all,  content  now  to 
leave  them  together,  for  Ned  Morris  had  fol- 
lowed the  General  and  Bob  and  she  felt  sure  that 
Whitney  could  be  trusted  to  maneuver  General 
Livingston,  her  father,  out  of  the  way.  That 
done,  undoubtedly  Bob  would  go  to  Howard 
with  the  story  that  was  uppermost  to  his  mind  — 
the  Palm  Beach  affair  —  and  Morris  could  be 
expected  also  to  go  to  Howard  with  his  tale  of 
the  handsome  widow  and  then  —  then  the  time 
would  come  for  her  to  know  fully  the  extent  of 
the  infatuation  in  which  Mrs.  Blakemore  held 
her  husband;  whether  it  was  strong  enough  to 
be  proof  against  the  wound  to  his  vanity  that 
the  stories  of  Bob  and  Ned  would  inflict. 
Would  the  wound  prove  incurable  in  Howard; 
unpardonable  of  the  widow?  This  done,  down 
deep,  did  Howard  love  her,  his  wife?  And  the 
end  must  come  rightly  if  he  did. 

"  I  hope  to  see  you  all  in  a  few  minutes,"  she 
said  with  meaning  as  she  left  the  room. 


258  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Certainly,"  said  Stanton  perfunctorily, 
glowering  to  observe  that  Whitney  still  walked 
at  the  side  of  his  wife.  Marion  chatted  closely 
and  rapidly  to  him  as  they  walked  toward  the 
door.  Stanton  drew  an  easier  breath  to  observe 
that  Whitney  paused  in  the  doorway,  bowed  and 
turned  back  into  the  room. 

"  Robert  and  I  were  just  discussing  Mrs. 
Blakemore,  Howard,"  said  the  old  General. 
"  We  agreed  that  she  was  a  very  handsome 
woman.  How  did  Marion  run  across  her?  " 

Stanton  stared.  His  answer  came  raggedly 
and  stupidly. 

"  Er  —  ah  —  don't  exactly  know,"  he  man- 
aged to  say. 

"  Don't  know  ?  "  asked  the  surprised  General. 

"  Quite  accidentally,  wasn't  it,  Howard? " 
asked  Whitney,  interestedly. 

Stanton  grasped  at  that  straw. 

"  Yes,"  he  hastened  to  say,  with  no  appreci- 
ation of  the  humor  of  it,  "  quite  accidentally  — 
that's  it  —  quite  accidentally." 

"  Ah,"  said  the  General,  unmindful  of  Stan- 
ton's  embarrassment  that  was  so  evident  to  Mor- 
ris, Bob  and  Whitney;  "I  see  —  just  one  of 
those  queer  coincidences.  The  way  charming 


ANOTHER  BRICK  259 

women  frequently  come  together,"  he  added 
gracefully. 

"  Exactly,"  said  Whitney.  He  slipped  an 
arm  into  that  of  General  Livingston  and  the  old 
General,  being  very  fond  of  Whitney,  indeed, 
accepted  the  cordial  attitude  most  graciously. 
As  an  outcome  of  the  chat  Marion  had  with  him 
as  they  moved  toward  the  door,  Whitney  now 
said: 

"  By  the  way,  General,  this  is  just  my  chance. 
I've  often  wanted  to  get  the  story  out  of  you  — 
from  your  own  lips  —  of  the  bullet  hole  in  this 
interesting  bit  of  statuary." 

With  his  free  hand  he  indicated  the  old-fash- 
ioned clock.  General  Livingston's  eyes  lighted. 
It  was  his  pet  stock  story.  He  did  not  recall, 
as  Whitney  was  quite  sure  he  would  not,  that 
his  present  interlocutor  had  heard  him  tell  the 
yarn  some  half  dozen  or  more  times  before. 

"  It  was  over  a  woman,  of  course,"  began 
the  General.  "  It  was  back  in  1770  —  two 
loves  made  a  serious  business." 

His  voice  sunk  lower  as  he  went  on  with  the 
anecdote  and  as  it  droned  into  the  confidential, 
Bob  Livingston  saw  his  opportunity  to  detach 
himself  from  the  two  —  it  was  conceded  that  it 


260  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

was  no  rudeness  toward  his  father  for  him  to 
withdraw  when  this  story  was  in  progress  — 
and  made  straight  for  Howard  Stanton. 

"  Well,"  said  young  Livingston,  looking  his 
brother-in-law  over  from  head  to  feet ;  "  you  cer- 
tainly played  hell  with  this  party." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

Stanton  plainly  did  not  know  what  to  expect 
from  this  source  and  he  received  no  enlighten- 
ment when  Livingston,  waving  his  hands,  scorn- 
fully rejoined: 

"  What  do  I  mean  ?  Oh,  I  mean  the  weather 
—  the  airships  —  the  Japanese  war.  You  know 
what  I  mean,  well  enough.  I  think  you  played 
it  low  down." 

The  young  man's  manner  was  most  emphatic ; 
his  indignation  very  high,  and  his  cheeks 
flushed. 

Stanton's  indignation  rose  to  meet  it. 

"  Look  here,  Bob ;  don't  go  too  far.  You 
refer,  I  presume,  to  one  of  our  guests." 

Young  Mr.  Livingston  made  a  very  low,  a 
very  elaborate  bow. 

"  I  do,"  he  replied.  Then  straightening  up, 
he  demanded :  "  Why  was  she  invited  to-night  ? 
Of  all  times,  why  to-night?  " 


ANOTHER  BRICK  261 

"Why  not  to-night?"  asked  the  puzzled 
Stanton. 

Livingston  drew  back  and  stared  at  him.  It 
was  a  most  insulting  glance.  It  implied  that 
Stanton  was  too  stupid  for  tolerance. 

"  Well,  for  heaven's  sake,"  he  asked :  "  don't 
you  think  it  is  very  embarrassing  for  me  when 
you  consider  everything?  " 

"  I  don't  see  — " 

"  Don't  see  • —  don't  see  ?  "  mocked  Livingston. 
"  Why  —  me !  —  Mrs.  Blakemore  !  " 

He  bent  over,  staring  Stanton  squarely  in 
the  eye. 

"  Suppose  Salie,"  he  asked  bitterly,  "  should 
get  next?  " 

Young  Mr.  Livingston  made  a  gesture  of 
despair. 

"Whew!  If  she  should  — if  she  should!" 
he  said. 

"  You  —  Mrs.  Blakemore  ?  "  questioned  the 
dazed  Stanton. 

"  Sure!  Didn't  you  know?  I  thought  you 
must  know.  Why,"  Bob  Livingston  concluded, 
"  I  told  Marion." 

"  You  told  Marion  ?  "  Horror  was  added  to 
the  dazedness  on  Stanton's  face. 


262  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"Yes  —  then  —  at  the  time  —  when  I  was 
tied  up  with  Puss." 

Stanton  gasped. 

"  Puss ! " 

Young  Livingston  smiled  now  for  the  first 
time  during  his  conversation  with  his  brother- 
in-law. 

"Puss  — yes,"  he  nodded.  "That's  the 
name  I  used  to  call  her  —  the  pet  name,  you 
know,  that  I  used  to  call  her." 

Stanton  gulped.  He  looked  queerly  at  the 
somewhat  younger  man. 

"  The  name  you  used  to  call  her,"  he  remarked 
unsteadily. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  nodded  Livingston.  "  It  was 
last  year  at  Palm  Beach.  We'd  been  awful  good 
friends  for  a  long  time.  She  did  like  me  pretty 
well,  so,  of  course,  I  felt  like  a  dog  when  I  had 
to  do  it.  But  you  know,  I  met  Salie  and  fell 
in  love  with  her." 

Young  Livingston  rammed  his  hands  into  his 
trousers  pockets,  looked  at  the  hearth  rug  and 
then  looked  up  again. 

"  Of  course,  when  that  happened,"  he  said ; 
"  when  I  fell  in  love  with  Salie,  I  couldn't  stand 
for  the  other  one,  you  know.  So  I  went  to 


ANOTHER  BRICK  263 

Marion."  He  smiled  again,  fondly  and  af- 
fectionately this  time.  "  Marion  is  a  good  fel- 
low; you  can't  pull  the  wool  over  Marion's 
eyes.  I  made  a  clean  breast  and  it  was  Marion 
who  figured  out  what  to  do  and  got  me  out." 

Stanton  was  as  near  nervous  collapse  as  a 
man  can  be  and  still  stand  on  his  feet. 

"  Marion  knew !  "  he  exclaimed. 

Bob  nodded. 

"Got  you  out?" 

"  That's  what  she  did  —  dear  old  girl." 

While  Stanton  stood  there  speechless  and  re- 
garded with  dull  amazement  his  young  brother- 
in-law,  the  droning  voice  of  the  old  General  rose 
in  his  talk  to  Oliver  Whitney. 

"  So  the  seconds  placed  them  on  either  side 
of  the  dining  room  and  they  fired  across  the 
table.  The  Englishman's  bullet  struck  the 
piece  of  statuary  and  he  crumpled  up  dead 
across  the  room  beside  the  fireplace  where  all 
his  love-making  had  been  conducted.  That  was 
the  way,"  concluded  the  General  proudly,  "  my 
great-grandfather  avenged  a  wrong  done  a  fe- 
male member  of  his  family?  It  was  proper  in 
those  good  old  days." 

"  But  duelling  is  out  of  fashion  nowadays, 


A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

General."  Whitney  could  not  let  this  chance  go 
by.  He  shot  a  swift  look  of  mischief  at  Stan- 
ton,  who,  vaguely  hearing  the  talk,  turned  and 
listened. 

"  A  great  many  of  the  good  old  customs  have 
gone  out  of  fashion  in  this  damned  era  of  self- 
ishness," said  General  Livingston. 

He  dropped  his  contemptuous  manner,  how- 
ever, and  said  to  Whitney : 

"  But  I  am  forgetting  —  you  will  go  to  the 
opera  with  us,  will  you  not?  " 
He  waved  his  hand. 

"  No  extra  trouble,  my  dear  Oliver ;  not  in 
the  least.  I'll  telephone  right  up  and  have  an 
extra  chair  for  you  put  in  the  box.  Howard, 
where  is  the  telephone  on  this  floor?  " 

"  Through  this  door,  General.  Can  I  do  any- 
thing? " 

"  No ;  thank  you." 

Whitney  had  mentioned  the  opera  and  hinted 
for  an  invitation  with  the  expectation  tha^  the 
General  would  think  of  this  when  his  story  had 
finished  —  Whitney  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to 
interrupt  the  story  to  make  sure  of  an  added 
reason  that  would  keep  the  General  out  of  the 
room  until  both  Bob  Livingston  and  Ned  Morris 


ANOTHER  BRICK  265 

had  their  opportunities  of  telling  Howard  Stan- 
ton  about  "  Puss "  when  she  had  been  their 
"  Puss."  He  had  been  able  also  to  determine 
on  entering  the  room  that  Bob  had  been  telling 
Stanton  all  that  Marion  so  greatly  desired  him 
to  tell  her  husband.  And  now  he  beckoned 
young  Livingston  and  looked  toward  Morris. 
Morris  had  been  sitting  in  an  easy  chair  smok- 
ing nervously  at  his  cigar  and  again  as  nerv- 
ously sipping  at  a  highball.  He  had  several 
times  looked  over  to  where  Stanton  and  Living- 
ston stood  talking  —  looked  anxiously  as  if 
awaiting  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  one  or  the 
other  of  the  men.  Of  course,  it  was  Stanton 
with  whom  he  wished  to  talk. 

Now  that  he  saw  his  opportunity  to  confer 
with  Stanton,  Mr.  Morris  took  a  final  sip  of  his 
highball,  nipped  his  cigar  decisively  between  his 
teeth,  arose  and  walked  firmly  over  toward  Stan- 
ton,  who  stood  leaning  against  the  fireplace  try- 
ing his  best  to  assimilate  the  shock  that  young 
Bob  Livingston  had  given  him  a  few  minutes  be- 
fore. And  that  it  was  proving  indigestible  in- 
telligence, one  could  have  seen  by  the  wry  ex- 
pression that  his  face  wore. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

STLLL   ANOTHER    BRICK 

IT  was  not  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  for 
Mr.  Ned  Morris  to  broach  the  subject  which 
he  wished  to  discuss  with  his  brother-in-law. 
So,  for  a  time,  he  simply  stood  near  Howard, 
contemplatively  puffing  at  his  cigar  and  study- 
ing the  tiling  of  the  fireplace.  Twice  he 
coughed.  But  finally,  with  an  almost  heroic 
effort  to  break  through  his  embarrassment,  he 
added : 

"  Well,  Howard,  it's  one  on  me ;  I'll  have  to 
confess  confidentially,  of  course,  because  I  need 
your  help." 

Stanton's  reception  of  his  advance  was  not  en- 
couraging. 

"  What  is  it?  "  asked  that  young  man,  with 
no  effort  to  hide  a  suspicious  attitude. 

Again  Mr.  Morris  indulged  in  a  slight  cough. 
He  smiled.     But  it  was  a  wooden  smile. 
266 


STILL  ANOTHER  BRICK         267 

"  I  did  not  think,"  he  said  hesitatingly,  "  that 
I'd  ever  be  caught  with  the  goods." 

Stanton  did  not  help  him  out.  He  simply 
went  on  regarding  him  in  a  suspicious  manner. 

"  And  after  all  my  lectures  to  you,  too,"  ad- 
mitted Morris,  with  self-reproach. 

"  Caught  with  the  goods  ?  "  Stanton  snapped 
at  him  questioningly.  "  What  do  you  mean?  " 

He  stood  with  his  hands  behind  his  back  and 
inquired  indignantly: 

"  Why  can't  you  speak  out  ?  You  lawyers 
get  so  in  the  habit  of  beating  about  the  bush. 
Caught  with  the  goods?  What  goods?  " 

Mr.  Ned  Morris's  smile  may  have  been  meant 
to  be  pleasant  and  charming.  It  impressed 
Stanton  only  as  being  assinine  as  the  lawyer 
answered : 

"  Why  —  er  —  to  be  sure  —  very  charming 
goods,  indeed." 

"  What?  " 

"  I  say  very  charming  goods.  You'll  admit 
that?"  " 

"What  goods?" 

"  Er  —  Mrs.  Blakemore,"  said  Morris  softly. 

"  My  God ! "  cried  Stanton. 


268  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

Mr.  Morris  studied  the  end  of  his  cigar 
thoughtfully. 

"  It  is  bad,  I'll  admit,"  he  went  on  very  mildly 
for  him;  indeed,  in  a  manner  so  surprisingly 
diffident  that  Stanton,  at  his  wits'  end,  was  more 
suspicious  than  ever. 

"  But  you  can  understand,  Howard  —  after 
your  experience  with  the  mysterious  lady  in  the 
automobile,  can't  you,  eh?  " 

Morris  had  sidled  up  to  him;  Morris  was 
using  his  best  manner  to  win  over  to  himself  the 
alliance  of  his  brother-in-law  in  the  predicament 
in  which  he  found  himself  —  the  avowed  friend- 
ship of  longstanding  that  Mrs.  Blakemore  had 
made  in  front  of  his  wife  Belle,  a  friendship  of 
which  she  had  hitherto  known  nothing ;  a  friend- 
ship which  he  would  now  have  to  explain. 

"You  can  understand — can't  you?"  asked 
Morris. 

Stanton  did  not  look  at  him  directly.  In- 
stead, a  very  queer  light  was  shining  in  his  eyes. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  slowly,  "  I  am  beginning  to 
understand  —  I  think  I  am  beginning  to  under- 
stand." 

Morris  was  too  engrossed  in  his  own  sad  case 
to  notice  the  peculiarly  bitter  manner  in  which 


STILL  ANOTHER  BRICK         269 

Stanton  made  this  statement.  Morris,  thinking 
only  of  himself,  gave  a  sigh  of  huge  relief  and 
said: 

"  That's  the  best  of  having  a  damned  rake  for 
a  brother-in-law.  When  you  get  into  trouble 
you  can  come  to  him." 

His  bit  of  jocularity  was  fully  intended  to 
bring  a  smile  to  the  lips  of  Stanton.  It  had  an 
entirely  opposite  effect.  Stanton,  with  a 
wounded  look  in  his  eyes,  the  look  of  self-pity 
that  comes  in  the  hurting  of  a  man's  self-love, 
grew  suddenly  angry  and  his  voice  became 
vibrant  with  the  tone  of  his  emotion  as  he  an- 
swered : 

"  Yes ;  a  damned  rake  for  a  brother-in-law ! 
That's  what  I  have !  " 

Mr.  Ned  Morris,  perfection  of  all  that  was 
conventional  and  respectable  in  the  world,  was 
alarmed  and  horrified  to  hear  himself  so  classi- 
fied. He  gestured  in  agony  for  Stanton  to 
speak  more  quietly. 

"Sh,  Howard,"  he  pleaded.  "Please  — 
Howard.  Please." 

Stanton  walked  several  paces  away  from  him 
before  he  paid  any  attention  to  the  request. 
And  when  he  turned  he  went  on  speaking  as 


270  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

loudly  as  before  while  Morris  wiggled  in  fear 
and  disquiet. 

"Why  should  I  shield  you?"  Stanton  de- 
manded. "  Yes ;  a  damned  rake  1  How  dare 
you  —  you,  the  husband  of  my  innocent  sister !  " 

Even  the  lips  of  Mr.  Morris,  to  say  nothing 
of  his  face,  grew  very  pale. 

"  My  God,  Howard,"  he  remonstrated,  "  you 
won't  tell  Belle !  Why,  she'd  leave  me  in  a  min- 
ute." 

"  And  why  shouldn't  she?  " 

His  portly  brother-in-law  had  no  ready  an- 
swer, trained  lawyer  that  he  was.  He  could 
only  extend  his  plump  hands  and  go  on  pite- 
ously  pleading. 

"  But  it's  all  past.  Lose  her  for  what's 
past?  " 

"  Lose  her  fortune,  you  mean,"  sneered  Stan- 
ton  bitingly  back  at  him. 

"Stanton!" 

Morris,  for  all  his  smoothness,  his  plausibility, 
his  anxiety  for  the  world's  goods  and  the  world's 
softest  spots  for  his  resting,  was  nevertheless 
not  all  a  fish.  His  cry  was  one  of  genuine  an- 
ger and  indignation. 

And  young  Bob  Livingston,  who,  by  force  of 


STILL  ANOTHER  BRICK          271 

the  loud  tones  Stanton  had  been  using,  was  an 
involuntary  eavesdropper,  was.  also  moved  to 
exclaim  in  remonstrance: 

"Howard!" 

For  his  own  sake  it  were  better  perhaps  that 
he  had  not  been  so  impulsive  in  his  cry,  for  Stan- 
ton  wheeled  on  him  then,  glaring  as  fiercely  as 
ever,  and  called: 

"  You  too,  Livingston  —  you  are  no  better ! 
How  dare  you  protest  to  me  ?  " 

Stanton  indicated  Livingston  to  Morris. 

"  He  just  finished,"  he  sneered,  "  telling  me 
the  same." 

Livingston  and  Morris  were  thus  left  facing 
each  other. 

They  both  asked  each  other  the  same  thing. 

"  You,  too?  "  Bob  asked  of  Ned. 

"  You,  too?  "  Ned  asked  of  Bob. 

And  each  nodded  an  affirmative  to  the  other's 
question. 

Livingston  did  not  take  kindly  to  the  thing 
at  all. 

"  I  introduced  you,"  he  said  to  Morris  indig- 
nantly, "  and  you  took  my  place." 

"  Somebody  had  to  take  your  place,"  retorted 
Morris  no  less  angrily. 


272 

"  Well,  I'll  be  darned,"  said  young  Mr.  Liv- 
ingston, and  stared  around  at  everybody. 

"You  both  ought  to  be,"  rejoined  Stanton 
with  bitterness  and  contempt.  "  There  you 
stand  —  married  ten  years  —  married  one 
month !  —  the  same ;  both  alike." 

He  swept  his  hand  at  them. 

"  Two  pretty  modern  gentlemen,"  he  went  on. 
"  A  nice  state  of  affairs !  A  pretty  state  of  af- 
fairs. A  pleasant  situation." 

Oliver  Whitney,  observing  the  virtuous  indig- 
nation of  Stanton  at  finding  that  his  two  broth- 
ers-in-law had  indulged  themselves  quite  as  he 
had  indulged  himself  —  and  there  was  no  les- 
sening of  his  indignation  at  the  thought  that 
they  had  not  been  caught  and  he  had  —  was 
moved  impulsively  into  a  low  whistle  of  surprise 
and  amusement. 

It  brought  Stanton  angrily  around  at  him. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  Whitney?" 
he  cried  challengingly,  as  if  that  gentleman 
might  fully  expect  to  lose  his  life  the  next  in- 
stant if  he  should  confess  that  there  was  the 
least  thing  the  matter  with  him. 

Whitney  smiled  and  cupping  a  hand  behind 
his  ear,  he  replied: 


STILL  ANOTHER  BRICK         273 

"  Oh,  nothing.  I  thought  I  heard  another 
brick  go  through  that  glass  house." 

Stanton  stopped,  reddening  more  highly  even 
than  his  anger  had  tinged  his  countenance. 

"  You  are  right,  though,  Stanton,"  Whitney 
continued ;  "  it  is  a  pretty  situation.  Now,"  he 
stopped  to  give  his  words  a  certain  incisiveness, 
"  if  we  only  had  the  name  of  the  lady  in  your 
automobile  accident,  it  might  be  perfect." 

The  words  so  deliberately  and  crisply  spoken 
had  their  quick  effect.  Stanton  came  down  to 
earth  with  a  bump. 

"  Huh?  " 

That  was  all  he  could  say,  as  with  dropped 
jaw  he  stood  and  stared  at  Whitney. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

"  THAT    REPORTER    IS    BACK  " 

THE  room  was  not  clearly  before  the  vision 
of  young  Howard  Stanton,  as  stung  by 
Whitney's  words  into  a  full  realization  of  all 
that  his  wife  wanted  driven  into  his  mind,  he 
gazed  at  the  men,  his  lips  parted,  his  eyes  giv- 
ing complete  expression  to  the  confused  state 
of  his  mind. 

He  had  nothing  to  say.  Indeed,  what  was 
there  to  be  said  excepting  that  he  had  been  a  fool 
—  excepting  that  in  this  very  moment,  for  the 
sake  of  a  woman  inconstant,  fickle,  merely  self- 
ishly vain  in  her  conquest  of  him  as  she  must 
have  been  in  her  conquest  of  these  other  two  who 
stood  before  him,  he  had  jeopardized  the  love  of 
a  woman  infinitely  finer,  sweeter  and  more  beau- 
tiful; had  jeopardized  —  he  stopped  and  drew  a 
hand  across  a  face  shot  with  pain.  Jeopardized 
-  indeed,  he  had  lost  her  love !  Neglect  had 
killed  it.  She  —  his  wife  —  at  that  very  in- 


"  THAT  REPORTER  IS  BACK  "      275 

slant  loved  another.  Why,  the  man  who  had 
won  her  away  from  him  stood  there  in  his  sight 
—  Whitney,  Oliver  Whitney,  smooth,  quite 
as  handsome  as  himself  and  as  Stanton  very 
well  realized,  infinitely  more  clever.  Whitney 
had  the  sort  of  love  his  wife  would  demand. 
The  man  had  stood  in  the  background  for  eight 
years  looking  at  her  with  the  same  changeless 
love  in  his  eyes.  Marion  could  not  be  blamed  if 
she  had  turned  from  him  to  Whitney ;  if  she  had 
tired  of  his  neglect  and  set  her  face  toward  where 
she  knew  a  steady  light  of  love  was  always  to  be 
found  burning. 

The  fury  that  he  had  felt  against  her  when  he 
saw  her  standing  with  her  face  lifted  upward  to 
that  of  Oliver  Whitney,  when  he  saw  turned  to- 
ward Whitney  the  same  fond  glance  that  for- 
merly had  only  been  turned  toward  him,  was 
now  dead  in  him;  the  fires  of  his  anger  smoul- 
dered only  weakly.  For  an  instant  he  thought 
of  stealing  over  to  Whitney  and  seizing  him  by 
the  throat  and  engaging  him  fiercely;  but  he 
quickly  dismissed  that  as  being  a  ridiculous 
thing  to  do.  Who  could  blame  Whitney  for 
seeking  to  reap  the  reward  of  his  faithfulness? 
He  was  sure  that  Whitney  had  been  a  true  friend 


276  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

before;  that  Marion  would  have  entertained  no 
declarations  up  to  that  time  when  the  twist  of  a 
tire  sent  his  automobile  into  the  ditch  and  re- 
vealed a  part  of  his  life  which  had  been  hitherto 
kept  in  closest  secrecy  from  his  wife.  How  could 
he  reasonably  reproach  Marion  with  looking  for 
a  new  love  after  he  had  been  discovered  indulg- 
ing himself  similarly  as  it  were? 

And  there  stood  Morris  and  Livingston,  cul- 
pables  like  himself  —  fools  like  himself  they  had 
been  —  there  they  stood  —  three  monkeys  on 
the  widow's  string!  That  was  the  unflattering 
characterization  in  which  Stanton  now  saw  him- 
self and  the  other  two  men. 

They  stood  in  a  silent  group  as  old  General 
Livingston  returned  from  having  used  the  tele- 
phone. 

"  I  have  managed  to  have  two  chairs  placed 
in  the  box,  Whitney,"  said  the  old  gentleman. 
He  coughed  and  threw  out  his  chest,  hesitated  a 
little  further  and  said  casually  —  too  casually 
perhaps :  "  Suppose  we  ask  Mrs.  Blakemore 
up  with  us."  And  then  the  General  did  not  seek 
to  check  his  enthusiasm. 

"  I  tell  you,"  he  said,  "  she's  a  charming 
woman  —  makes  me  feel  young  again.' 


«  THAT  REPORTER  IS  BACK  "      277 

He  braced  his  shoulders  and  smiled. 

"  Next ! "  called  Howard  Stanton  with  a  bit- 
ter grimace  at  the  other  three  men. 

"  What's  that,  Howard?  "  demanded  the  old 
man  sharply.  "  Don't  you  think  she's  charm- 
ing?  » 

Stanton  hunched  his  shoulders  and  clenched 
his  hands.  The  effort  at  self-control  that  he 
made  was  a  big  one.  "  Yes  —  yes,"  he  an- 
swered, "  I  think  she's  charming."  His  voice 
grew  intensely  meaningful.  "  Everybody  seems 
to  think  she's  charming !  " 

"  Of  course,"  said  the  surprised  cavalier  of 
the  bygone  epoch.  "  Why,  if  I  were  young  — 
if—" 

Stanton  felt  a  snap  of  his  nerves.  His  self- 
control  deserted  him  utterly.  He  laughed,  and 
in  the  excitement  of  his  feeling  it  came  forth  in 
coarse  and  jarring  laughter. 

"  Oh,  there's  no  age  limit,"  he  said  fiercely. 
"  I  suppose  soon  —  soon  you'll  be  like  the  rest 
—  calling  her  Puss  —  Puss  — Puss,  and  beg- 
ging me  to  help  you  out." 

The  smiles  of  the  other  three  men  were  ill- 
suppressed.  The  old  General  flushed  and  war 
signals  flashed  in  his  eyes. 


278  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Sir !  How  dare  you  ? "  he  demanded. 
"  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  Mean ! " 

Stanton  flung  his  arms  wildly. 

"  I  mean  —  O,  nothing !  " 

He  followed  this  extraordinary  speech  —  ex- 
traordinary, that  is,  to  the  ears  of  General  Liv- 
ingston, with  a  sweeping  gesture  at  Morris,  Bob 
Livingston  and  Oliver  Whitney. 

"  Mean?  "  he  repeated.     "  Ask  them !  " 

And  with  that,  Stanton,  too  utterly  unstrung 
to  further  contain  himself,  flung  himself  out  of 
the  doorway,  vouchsafing  no  further  explanation 
or  remarks. 

Gasping  with  anger  and  amazement,  his 
father-in-law  gazed  towards  the  door  and  then 
looked  back  at  the  other  men. 

"What's  the  matter  with  that  fellow?"  he 
asked. 

There  was  a  silence. 

"  Does  anyone  of  you  know  what  is  thematter 
with  him?  He  said  to  ask  you.  What  is  it?  " 

Mr.  Ned  Morris  wet  his  lips.  Then  he  twid- 
dled his  mustache. 

General  Livingston  stared  at  him,  impatient 
for  some  disclosure  or  other. 


"  THAT  REPORTER  IS  BACK  "     279 

"  Probably  —  probably  —  he  —  er  —  has 
worries  of  some  sort." 

General  Livingston  shrugged  his  shoulders  im- 
patiently. 

"  He's  —  ah  —  often  —  er  —  ah  —  abrupt, 
you  know." 

Manifestly  this  was  no  explanation  at  all,  so 
the  old  man  turned  an  inquiring  glance  on  his 
son. 

"  I'm  sure,  father,"  said  Bob,  "  I  haven't  the 
slightest  idea  what  is  the  matter  with  Howard." 

The  General  considered  with  wrinkled  brow. 

"But  Puss,"  he  said.  "What  of 
Puss  .  .  .?" 

Whitney,  who  had  waited  for  the  others  to 
speak,  now  decided  that  the  moment  was  at  hand 
when  a  rescue  committee  was  needed.  He  ap- 
pointed himself  one. 

"  Why,  that's  a  pet  name,  sir,"  he  said  to  the 
puzzled  old  gentleman.  "  Puss  is  a  pet  name  in 
—  in,  I  may  say,  general  use.  Stanton  is  wor- 
ried. I  am  sure  he  hardly  realized  what  he  was 
saying.  He's  had  a  great  deal  to  upset  him  re- 
cently —  that  automobile  accident,  you  know. 
I'm  afraid  we  teased  him  a  little  and  that,  with 
this  reporter's  calling  to-night,  it  put  him  off. 


280  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

I'm  sure,"  he  concluded  pleasantly,  "  he'll  be 
back  in  time  to  apologize,  General." 

The  grizzled  military  man  smoothed  his  gray 
mustache  and  nodded  in  a  satisfied  manner  at 
Whitney. 

"  Ah,  to  be  sure,"  he  said.  "  He's  had  his 
lesson.  He's  had  his  lesson,  hasn't  he?  " 

"  He  has,"  agreed  Whitney  with  emphasis. 

General  Livingston  looked  toward  Bob  Liv- 
ingston and  Ned  Morris.  His  glance  at  them 
at  this  juncture  caused  them  both  to  smile  sheep- 
ishly. 

The  General  shook  his  finger  at  them. 

"  Now,  you  boys  stop  plaguing  him,"  he  said 
jocularly. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  they  both  answered  with  an  excess 
of  deference. 

The  butler,  soft-footed,  appeared. 

"What  is  it,  Wilson?"  asked  General  Lir- 
ingston. 

"  A  note,  sir." 

"  For  whom?  " 

"  For  Mr.  Stanton." 

Wilson  stepped  back  a  few  paces.  He  cleared 
his  throat  uneasily. 

'*  That  reporter  is  back,"  he  said  ominously. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

COMPLETE  REVELATION 

AT  the  mention  by  Wilson  of  the  presence  of 
a  reporter,  General  Livingston  frowned. 
In  his  conservative  estimate  of  things,  Howard 
Stanton  was  at  this  moment  deserving  of  sym- 
pathy. 

"  A  note?  "  he  asked  Wilson. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

He  looked  about  at  the  others  more  or  less 
for  confirmation  of  the  action  he  meant  to  take. 

"  It's  a  shame,"  he  said,  "  to  bother  the  boy 
when  he's  so  excited  already.  It's  some  trivial 
matter,  doubtless.  I  suppose  it  would  be  all 
right  for  me  to  — " 

"  I  should  think  so,"  affirmed  Morris. 

"  He'll  thank  you,  dad,  for  taking  it  off  his 
hands,"  assented  Bob. 

"  Well,  then,  I'll  do  it." 

General  Livingston  took  the  note  from  Wil- 
281 


282  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

son,  opened  it  and  read  it.     Storm  clouds  swept 
over  his  countenance. 

For  some  minutes  he  seemed  to  wish  to  speak, 
but  to  be  unable  to  do  so.  Finally,  however, 
he  very  forcibly  cleared  his  throat,  and  as  he 
read,  his  voice  trembled  with  indignation. 

"  4  Mr.  Stanton,'  "  he  read  from  the  note  in 
his  hand,  "  '  we  have  identified  positively  the  lady 
who  was  with  you  at  the  time  of  your  automobile 
accident. 

"  '  All  the  papers  are  clamoring  for  the  story. 

" '  We  are  going  to  release  the  story  unless 
you  prove  our  identification  wrong.  I  would 
advise  your  seeing  me. 

" '  HARRY  LYNCH, 
"  '  City  News.9  " 

Young  Bob  Livingston  blinked  his  eyes  and 
whistled. 

"Whew!"  he  said.  "That  Lynch  has  a 
nerve ! " 

The  letter  fluttered  in  the  shaking  hand  of  the 
enraged  General. 

"  I'll  see  to  this,"  he  declared.  "  That  poor 
boy  shall  not  be  worried  by  this  damnable  hound- 
ing any  longer ! "  He  started  in  a  stride  to- 
ward the  door,  but  Whitney's  voice  halted  him. 


COMPLETE  REVELATION        283 

"  I  hesitate  about  suggesting,  General,"  said 
Whitney  coolly,  "  but  don't  you  think  it  might 
be  well  to  have  Morris  see  him  instead  ?  " 

The  old  man  flung  up  his  head,  challenging 
Whitney's  reason. 

"  You  see,  General,  Morris  is  a  lawyer,  and 
he  could  make  the  necessary  threat  of  libel  suit." 

"  Lawyer,  the  devil ! "  snapped  back  the  old 
man.  "  This  is  no  time  for  a  lawyer."  Mor- 
ris's ears  were  startled  at  the  General's  conclud- 
ing statement.  "  This  is  the  time  for  a  man," 
he  cried. 

He  wheeled  toward  Wilson. 

"  Show  that  reporter  in,"  he  said  in  a  voice 
in  which  rage  was  thrilling  perceptibly. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Careful,  dad,"  said  Bob  Livingston. 

"Why  should  I  be  careful,  sir?"  asked  his 
irate  father. 

"  Because,  dad,  this  chap  Lynch  is  a  '  star ' 
man.  He's  very  clever." 

"  Be  careful?  Huh !  You  see  I  am  calm  — 
quite  calm ;  you  can  see  that." 

By  way  of  confirmation  General  Livingston 
drew  himself  up  and  revealed  his  body  trembling 
with  excitement. 


284  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  I  wouldn't  like  to  be  Lynch,"  observed  Bob 
to  Whitney,  and  they  both  laughed. 

Young  Mr.  Lynch  entered  the  room  with  his 
usual  brisk  manner  and  his  usual  alert  eye. 

When  he  saw  Bob  Livingston  he  nodded. 

"  Hello,  Livingston,"  he  said. 

"  Hello,  Lynch,"  said  Bob  uneasily. 

"  Well,  sir?  "  demanded  General  Livingston. 

Young  Mr.  Lynch  looked  at  him  with  some 
surprise. 

"  Yes  ?  "  he  answered  pleasantly. 

"  I  am  General  Livingston." 

Mr.  Lynch  of  the  City  News  bowed  appreci- 
atively and  made  his  usual  reply.  It  was  get- 
ting to  sound  stereotyped  in  spite  of  his  effort 
always  to  make  it  sound  spontaneous. 

"  Oh,  yes,  General,"  he  said.  "  I  recognize 
you.  We  know  most  of  the  big  men." 

The  compliment  did  not  entirely  glance  off, 
but  the  General's  voice  was  still  very  stern  as  he 
demanded : 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir,  by  this  note  ?  " 

He  was  almost  on  the  point  of  shaking  it  in 
the  reporter's  face  when  Lynch  spoke  in  his 
quick,  decisive  manner. 

"  My  note?  "  he  asked.    "  Isn't  it  quite  plain? 


COMPLETE  REVELATION        285 

I  think,  however,  General  Livingston,  that  I  ad- 
dressed it  to  Mr.  Stanton !  " 

The  jab  sent  the  old  General  storming. 

"  Plain,"  he  cried.  "  It's  too  damnably 
plain:  it's  despicable,  contemptible  blackmail 
—  that's  what  it  is !  " 

Young  Mr.  Lynch  looked  very  steadily  at  the 
General  for  a  second  and  then  toward  the  old 
man's  son. 

"  Livingston,"  he  said,  "  you  ought  to  know 
better  than  to  let  your  father  make  a  mistake 
like  that." 

And  Whitney  moved  forward  quickly,  step- 
ping in  front  of  Stanton's  father-in-law,  and 
protested. 

"  General !  "  he  cautioned. 

"  Dad !  "  added  Bob  in  the  same  tone. 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  sir,"  cried  the  old  man 
at  his  son.  He  looked  again  at  the  reporter. 

"  I  represent  Mr.  Stanton,"  he  said  hotly, 
"  and  I  tell  you,  sir,  that  I  do  not  propose  to 
have  him  hounded  in  this  damnable  fashion  any 
longer.  I  shall  hold  you  personally  responsi- 
ble." 

"  General,"      said      Mr.      Lynch     smilingly, 


286  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  you're  the  fifth  man  that  has  said  that  to  me 
since  three  o'clock." 

"What?" 

Mr.  Lynch  was  still  imperturbable. 

"  And  if  you  do  physically  assault  me,"  he 
said  in  a  manner  showing  him  to  be  quite  at  his 
professional  ease  in  the  face  of  this  outburst, 
"  I  shall  certainly  have  to  land  you  in  the  night 
court,  General  —  and  collect  space  on  the  story. 
It  would  make  a  great  spread  on  the  first  page, 
sure  — '  Famous  Old  Soldier  Fined  for  Bru- 
tally Assaulting  Innocent  Young  Newspaper- 
man.' " 

Lynch,  not  altogether  unintentionally,  had 
succeeded  almost  in  goading  the  white-haired 
man  into  uttering  a  wild  yell  of  rage. 

Then  his  feeling  overcame  him  in  another  di- 
rection. He  was  almost  tearful  with  combined 
rage  and  a  sense  of  humiliation.  He  asked : 

"  Haven't  you  newspapermen  any  sense  of 
personal  decency  —  personal  dignity  ?  " 

"  Don't  be  too  hard  on  us,  General  Living- 
ston," returned  Lynch.  "  During  business 
hours  our  associations  are  very  bad." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 


COMPLETE  REVELATION      287 

Young  Mr.  Lynch  did  not  reply  directly.  He 
had  evidently  made  up  his  mind  that  it  was  fully 
time  to  get  down  to  the  matter  in  hand.  So  he 
walked  a  few  paces  nearer  to  the  General  and 
said  incisively: 

"  We  have  the  name  of  the  lady  who  was  with 
Howard  Stanton  in  his  car  at  the  time  of  his 
accident.  We  have  learned  all  about  the  trip, 
and  we  have  the  woman's  name.  So  I  have  come 
to  give  Mr.  Stanton  a  — " 

"Would  the  papers  print  that?"  asked  the 
General,  starting  to  pace  up  and  down  the  room. 

Lynch  laughed. 

"Would  they?  Would  they  print  it? 
Well—" 

"  Then,"  said  the  General  w'th  stern  dignity, 
"  I  shall  say  nothing.  But  our  lawyers  will  take 
some  action." 

Mr.  Lynch  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Well,  then,"  he  said,  "  they  had  better  take 
it  quick." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  You'll  have  fifty  reporters  up  here  by  to" 
morrow  night." 


288  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Well,  and  if  Mr.  Stanton  refuses  to  say  any- 
thing? " 

"  If  Mr.  Stanton  refuses  to  say  anything  we 
will  simply  send  out  the  story  that  the  woman  in 
the  car  with  him  at  the  time  of  his  automobile 
accident  was  — " 

Mr.  Lynch  had  the  dramatic  instinct  to  the 
full.  He  paused.  Then  he  supplemented 
clearly  and  shortly : 

"  Was  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Blakemore." 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

MARION    TAKES    THE    REINS    AGAIN 

MARION'S  father  was  startled.  And  his 
rage  knew  no  diminution  save  that  it 
turned  now  from  Mr.  Lynch  to  the  thought  of 
Howard  Stanton.  It  was  a  more  serious  brand 
of  rage  —  bitter,  cold  and  fierce.  That  Stan- 
ton  should  have  had  the  effrontery  to  intro- 
duce this  woman  of  his  misadventure  into  his 
home,  should  have  dared  to  introduce  her 
to  his,  General  Livingston's  daughter;  should 
have  so  far  forgotten  the  honor  due  his  wife 
to  do  this  thing,  was  an  act  of  brazenry  too 
great  for  the  comprehension  of  the  old  school 
gentleman.  He  stood  facing  Lynch  with  a  wild 
look  in  his  eyes.  And  he  almost  tottered. 

But  he  was  not  the  only  one  in  the  room 
who  was  startled.  Morris  and  Bob  Livingston 
were  staring  at  Lynch  with  mouths  agape. 

Now  for  the  first  time  they  understood  the 
reason  for  Stanton's  outbreak  against  them  a 


290  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

little  while  before.  It  had  been  quite  aston- 
ishing that  the  big,  good-natured,  easy  going 
fellow,  himself  admittedly  a  culprit  in  many 
things,  should  have  taken  the  high  moral  tone 
with  them  that  he  had.  But  now  that  Lynch's 
revelation  had  shown  them  that  their  "  Puss  " 

—  she  had  been  their  "  Puss  " —  was  now  his 
"  Puss,"  the  mysterious  woman  of  the  automo- 
bile accident;  they  much  better  understood  his 
attitude;  they  could  understand  the  rip  to  his 
vanity  in  the  discovery. 

And  Stanton  himself  now  entered  the  room. 
He  had  quite  recovered  his  calm.  In  the 
course  of  doing  so,  he  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  his  conduct  toward  General  Livingston  had 
not  only  been  strange  but  almost  offensive  and 
it  was  with  a  full  resolution  to  make  amends  that 
he  returned. 

He  lost  no  time  in  going  up  to  the  old  man 
and  holding  out  his  hand. 

"  General,"  he  said,  "  I  wish  to  apologize." 
He  fell  back  before  the  whirling  return  that 
he  got  from  Marion's  father.     The  old  general 

looked  upon  him  so  fiercely,  with  a  face  so  livid 

with  rage,  that  Stanton  was  betrayed  into  an 

exclamation  of  amazement. 


MARION  TAKES  THE  REINS     291 

"  Apologize !  "  roared  the  general.  "  Apolo- 
gize !  How  dare  you,  sir?  " 

He  swept  a  gaunt  arm  out  toward  the  younger 
man.  "  My  great  grandfather,"  he  said, 
"  killed  his  man  for  just  such  an  insult — " 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  insult  you,  General." 

Oliver  Whitney  perhaps  caught  the  swift 
gleam  that  had  come  into  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Lynch 
of  the  City  News  —  that  same  quick  look  of 
interest  that  perhaps,  comes  into  the  eyes  of  a 
scientist  who  finds  himself  on  the  true  trace  of 
a  discovery. 

Whitney  stepped  quickly  forward  toward  the 
old  soldier. 

"  All  this  can  be  of  no  interest  to  Mr.  Lynch," 
he  said  significantly.  "  Mr.  Lynch  wants  a 
direct  statement." 

He  looked  toward  the  reporter. 

"  I'm  sure,  Mr.  Lynch,"  he  said  stepping 
back ;  "  if  you  will  come  with  me  just  a  moment, 
Mr.  Stanton  will  give  you  a  statement." 

Mr.  Lynch  was  unquestionably  a  reluctant 
companion  but  Whitney's  manner  was  so 
friendly  and  persuasive  as  he  slipped  his  arm 
into  that  of  the  young  newspaperman  and  led 
him  toward  the  door  that  Lynch  was  taken  away 


A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

perforce  in  preference  to  committing  an  out- 
right rudeness. 

At  the  door,  Whitney  looked  back. 
"  When  you  wish  to  see  Mr.  Lynch,  Stanton," 
he  said,  "  he'll  be  here  with  me." 

Mr.  Lynch  made  something  of  a  wry  grimace 
as  he  observed  Mr.  Oliver  Whitney  carefully 
close  the  double  doors  of  the  room  after  they 
had  left  it. 

General  Livingston  his  eyes  glaring,  his  nos- 
trils dilated,  strode  toward  Stanton. 

"  Now,  sir,  we  have  only  members  of  the 
family  present,"  he  said  fiercely.  "  I  will  settle 
with  you." 

"  Settle  with  me?  "  demanded  Stanton. 
"  Yes ;  decidedly,"  said  the  general  with  his 
rage  no  bit  abated.  "  Although  you  did  steal 
my  daughter,  I  had  forgiven.  I  had  come  to 
think  you  a  gentleman."  The  old  man  put  in- 
finite scorn  into  the  last  word  of  the  sentence. 
"  Even,  for  her  sake,  I  forgave  this  recent 
scandal."  General  Livingston  drew  back. 
"  But  such  shameful  —  such  dastardly  conduct 
passes  all  consideration  —  bringing  that  woman 
into  this  house."  He  thrust  forward  his  face 
until  it  was  very  close  to  Stanton's.  "  Horse- 


MARION  TAKES  THE  REINS     293 

whipping  is  too  good  for  you,  sir.  Horsewhip- 
ping is  too  good !  " 

Stanton  made  a  gesture  of  resentment.  He 
was  on  the  point  of  demanding  an  explanation. 
But  the  old  man  went  on  tumultuously.  "  Palm- 
ing off  this  woman  on  my  daughter  —  your 
wife?  Your  innocent  wife!  Oh,"  cried  the 
General,  "  if  I  were  only  younger !  " 

He  shot  a  quick  glance  at  the  old  clock  that 
had  a  bullet  hole  in  it. 

"  They  knew  better  how  to  settle  a  case  of 
this  kind  in  the  old  days,"  he  concluded. 

"  Why  —  why,  father,  I  can  settle  it,"  said 
young  Livingston. 

He  only  succeeded  in  drawing  the  old  man's 
fury  to  himself. 

"  You ! " 

He  turned  from  his  son  contemptuously. 

"  My  poor  child  —  she  must  not  know !  "  he 
said  with  sincere  determination  and  affection. 

His  child  herself  appeared  at  the  door  enter- 
ing from  the  conservatory.  She  was  smiling 
and  she  was  wondering.  She  was  wondering  if 
it  had  all  turned  out  as  she  had  planned;  won- 
dered if  Stanton  had  come  to  know  all  about 
Mrs.  Blakemore ;  had  come  to  see  himself  as  one 


294  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

of  a  long  line  of  mere  pets,  all  dancing  their 
prettiest  or  showing  off  their  cleverest  traits  for 
the  amusement  of  the  fascinating  widow. 

"  Haven't  you  ungallant  men  finished  your 
cigars  yet  ?  "  she  asked. 

Immediately  she  perceived  the  strained  atti- 
tudes of  them  all.  Something  had  happened? 
What?  She  entered  the  room  quickly  and,  with 
a  backward  glance  toward  where  she  had  left  the 
other  women  instantly  closed  the  door. 

"  What's  the  matter?  " 

No  one  spoke. 

"Tell  me  — what  is  it?" 

Her  father  glanced  at  her  pityingly  and  lov- 
ingly. The  sight  of  her  did  not  serve  to  calm 
him.  If  anything  his  rage  grew  greater,  his 
blood  rose  more  violently.  But  he  drew  him- 
self together. 

"Marion,"  he  said  with  dignity;  "Mrs. 
Blakemore  must  leave  this  house  at  once." 

"  Father,"  she  said,  shaking  her  head ;  "  I 
do  not  understand." 

"  Don't  ask  questions,  Marion,"  he  said  with 
his  old  fashioned  assumption  of  parental  des- 
potism, "  Just  accept  your  father's  word.  She 
must  leave." 


MARION  TAKES  THE  REINS     295 

General  Livingston  took  Howard  Stanton  in 
with  a  cold  stare. 

"  And  then,"  he  added,  to  his  daughter,  "I 
will  take  you  home." 

Marion  again  shook  her  head. 

"  But  Mrs.  Blakemore  is  our  guest,  father. 
You  are  our  guest  also.  You  must  explain." 

Stanton  gulped  hard.  He  saw  his  wife  — 
saw  her  as  one  quite  lost  to  him,  but  he  could 
not  endure  the  suspense  of  the  present  moment ; 
could  not  endure  the  suffering  that  he  feared 
might  be  brought  upon  her  before  them  all.  So 
he  spoke  in  a  quick,  explanatory  manner. 

"  That  reporter  got  in,  Marion,"  he  said. 

She  paused.  The  intelligence  of  the  message 
and  her  complete  grasp  of  its  meaning  was  ex- 
pressed in  her  gray  eyes. 

"  Oh,"  she  said  merely. 

"  You  cannot,"  boomed  the  voice  of  her 
father ;  "  stay  with  decency  under  the  same  roof 
with  the  woman  this  scoundrel  has  palmed  off  on 
you." 

Marion  looked  calmly  at  her  father,  conscious, 
however,  of  the  storm  she  was  bound  to  raise  by 
her  forthcoming  reply. 

"  I  invited  Mrs.  Blakemore,  father,"  she  said. 


296  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Marion ! " 

"  I  know  everything,"  she  went  on.  And  then 
to  make  his  understanding  of  the  matter  as  com- 
plete as  need  be,  she  supplemented.  "  I  knew 
when  I  invited  her." 

Her  father  drew  away  from  her,  staring 
closely. 

"  Marion,"  he  said,  "  you  are  insane !  " 

She  laughingly  shook  her  head  at  him  again. 

"  No ;  only  sensible,"  she  replied. 

She  looked  at  her  husband. 

"  Is  that  reporter  still  here,"  she  asked. 

"  In  the  hall,"  Stanton  answered. 

"  Ask  him  to  come  in." 

A  general  murmur  of  surprise  went  up  from 
all  the  men.  The  old  General  fairly  spluttered. 
Stanton  himself  had  gasped  and  now  he  plainly 
hesitated  to  obey  her  request. 

"  Fetch  him,"  she  said. 

"  He  shall  not  come  in,"  cried  General  Liv- 
ingston. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

THE   CHECKMATING  OF   MB.   LYNCH 

WITH  all  the  vim  and  vigor  of  his  old  bat- 
tlefield days,  General  Livingston  had 
declared  to  his  daughter  that  Lynch,  the  re- 
porter, should  not  be  admitted.  But  Marion, 
as  before,  gave  clear  indication  that  she  was 
doing  her  own  thinking  and  acting  in  her  own 
home. 

She  looked  at  her  irate  father  calmly,  even  in 
a  gentle  and  conciliatory  manner.  But  never- 
theless, she  said : 

"  Father,  I  told  you  once  that  what  concerns 
my  own  h'f e  I  must  settle  in  my  own  way." 

"  Marion." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  that  is  what  I  said.  And  I  don't 
want  to  appear  disrespectful,  but  really,  father, 
you  cannot  coerce  me  in  my  own  house." 

The  old  General  drew  back,  altogether  non- 
plussed. He  had  known  Marion  intimately 
since  her  babyhood.  He  had  always  chuck- 
297 


298  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

lingly  admired  her  own  strength  of  will.  He 
knew  enough  of  it  not  to  try  and  gainsay  her  at 
this  moment.  He  stepped  aside,  therefore,  as 
she  resolutely  walked  toward  the  double  doors 
out  of  which  Oliver  Whitney  had  more  or  less 
forced  the  reluctant  reporter. 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Lynch,"  called  Marion. 
And  then:  "Won't  you  come  in?  You  too, 
Oliver." 

Whitney  and  the  reporter  came  into  the  room. 
Young  Mr.  Lynch  was  evidently  surprised  at 
the  new  turn  of  affairs.  He  had  expected  the 
usual  thing  —  a  family  consultation  and  then  a 
formal  and  perfunctory  statement  given  out; 
one  that  would  seek  to  becloud  rather  than  vouch- 
safe any  real  information  in  the  now  celebrated 
case.  Lynch  did  not  know  quite  what  to  make 
of  it,  and  his  experience  in  dealing  many  times 
with  persons  who  had  something  to  conceal,  who 
had  designs  of  pulling  the  wool  over  his  eyes 
brought  him  in  with  an  attitude  of  wariness,  not 
to  say  suspicion. 

Marion's  next  move  was  entirely  to  puzzle 
him.  She  stepped  forward  and  with  her  most 
gracious  manner  greeted  him. 

"  Good    evening,     Mr.     Lynch,"     said    she. 


MR.  LYNCH  CHECKMATED     299 

"  How  are  you  ?  This  is  an  unexpected  pleas- 
ure." 

Lynch  took  the  small  hand  extended  to  him. 
There  was  nothing  slighting  either  in  the  hand- 
shake he  gave  it.  He  was  a  young  man  and 
quite  human  and  Marion  instantly  exercised  over 
him  the  charm  that  her  prettiness  and  complete 
femininity  and  frank  gray  eyes  quite  generally 
exercised  over  those  of  his  sex. 

Young  Mr.  Lynch  was  even  moved  to  some 
emotion  by  the  grace  of  her  reception  of  him; 
the  matter-of-fact  kindliness  of  it,  quite  as  if  she 
did  not  regard  him  as  an  intruder. 

"  I  hope  you  will  believe  me,  Mrs.  Stanton," 
he  said  in  sincere  tones,  "  when  I  tell  you  it  is 
not  a  pleasure  to  me  to  have  to  come  on  this  er- 
rand." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Lynch,"  she  smiled  at  him. 

The  young  man  squared  his  shoulders. 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,"  said  he,  "  I'd  rather 
talk  to  Mr.  Stanton." 

Quite  resolutely  the  young  woman  shook  her 
head. 

"  Sorry,"  she  said,  "  but  — " 

There  was  no  need  for  her  to  say  more.  It 
was  plain  to  Mr.  Lynch  that  she  was  quite  firmly 


300  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

decided  to  talk  to  him  herself.  It  was  also  quite 
plain  to  Marion  that  young  Mr.  Lynch  liked  her 
and  felt  friendly  toward  her.  And  that  was  no 
end  of  encouragement  at  the  moment. 

Indeed,  she  was  hardly  clear  as  to  what  she  in- 
tended to  do  or  to  say  when  she  invited  Mr. 
Lynch  into  the  room.  All  she  knew  was  that 
she  did  not  want  anything  to  miscarry  now  in 
her  own  private  exposure  of  Mrs.  Blakemore 
to  her  husband.  She  feared  that  if  the  public 
prints  took  the  matter  up  with  a  great  clamor, 
there  might  be  due  reasons  that  would  actuate 
Stanton;  reasons  of  a  false  gallantry,  perhaps, 
that  would  make  him  deem  it  necessary  to  go  to 
the  widow's  defense,  even  to  the  extent  of  di- 
vorcing her,  Marion,  and  espousing  the  other 
woman.  Her  heart  was  beating  rapidly,  there- 
fore, with  the  fear  that  this  public  exposure  of 
the  identity  of  her  husband's  companion  on  the 
night  of  the  accident  was  about  to  happen. 

"  Please  understand  my  position,  Mrs.  Stan- 
ton,"  said  Mr.  Lynch,  "  and  how  I  regret  per- 
sonally the  questions  that  as  a  newspaperman  I 
must  put." 

Mrs.  Stanton  bowed. 


MR.  LYNCH  CHECKMATED     301 

"  Bluntly  then,  Mrs.  Stanton,"  continued  Mr. 
Lynch.  "  We  have  the  name  of  that  woman." 

Marion's  heart  swelled.  She  felt  the  need  of 
gasping  for  breath.  But  outwardly  she  showed 
no  sign  of  her  emotion. 

"Yes?"  she  questioned,  smoothly,  affably. 

"  And,"  said  Mr.  Lynch  as  bluntly,  now  that 
he  was  started,  "  we  are  going  to  publish  it." 

"  The  woman's  name?  " 

"  Yes." 

Marion  was  silent. 

"  Unless,"  added  Mr.  Lynch,  "  it  can  be 
proven  wrong." 

Marion  hesitated.  She  turned  her  gray  eyes 
slowly  up  and  looked  at  Mr.  Lynch. 

"  I  expected  that,"  she  said  quietly. 

Mr.  Lynch  bit  his  lip. 

"  Who  is  she  ?  "  asked  Marion  with  outward 
calm. 

Mr.  Lynch  paused.  He  had  got  to  a  part  of 
his  work  that  he  did  not  at  all  like.  Now  that 
it  had  come  to  the  actual  point  of  confronting 
Mrs.  Stanton  with  proof  of  her  husband's 
duplicity  he  was  wishing  that  he  were  somewhere 
else  —  anywhere  else,  so  that  he  were  well  out 


302  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

of  the  task.  But  the  task  was  there  and  it  had 
to  be  done.  Inexorably,  it  was  his  task  to  per- 
form. 

He  spoke  regretfully. 

"  The  woman,"  he  said,  "  is  Mrs.  Elizabeth 
Blakemore." 

To  Mr.  Lynch  the  result  of  his  statement  was 
most  astounding.  Instead  of  awakening  a 
glare  of  resentment,  anger  or  any  other  emo- 
tion, akin  in  the  countenance  of  Mrs.  Stanton, 
he  beheld  that  young  woman  throw  her  head 
back  suddenly,  dash  the  ringlets  from  her  brow 
and  give  vent  to  a  loud  outburst  of  merriment. 
Peal  after  peal  of  laughter  followed  it. 

Not  only  Mr.  Lynch  was  amazed.  All  the 
men  standing  about  Mrs.  Stanton  looked  upon, 
her  with  equal  astonishment.  They  could  not  un- 
derstand this  new  kink  in  her  woman's  way  that 
found  her  able  to  laugh  so  heartily  and  enjoy- 
ably  at  the  very  moment  when  the  sensation 
she  had  tried  so  long  to  conceal  from  the  news- 
papers was  about  to  break  with  the  full  force 
of  its  head-line  qualities  into  the  public  prints. 
Oliver  Whitney  who  knew  so  well  her  plan  to 
stifle  all  the  divorce  talk ;  who  knew  how  unrea- 
sonable it  seemed  to  him,  but  nevertheless,  how 


MR.  LYNCH  CHECKMATED     303 

deeply  the  little  woman  loved  Howard  Stanton 
and  how  she  meant  to  give  him  his  chance 
quietly  to  abandon  the  widow  and  return  wholly 
and  solely  to  her ;  was  perhaps  the  most  surprised 
man  of  them  all.  Stanton  could  only  look  at 
her  blankly.  The  old  General  regarded  her 
wonderingly  and  Bob  Livingston  and  Ned  Mor- 
ris first  looked  at  each  other  and  then  at  her 
quite  as  if  she  had  entered  the  room  eating  fire 
or  doing  some  other  equally  astounding  thing. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

THE    CALLING    OF    MRS.    BLAKEMORE 

WHEN  Marion  had  done  with  her  laugh- 
ter, she  looked  again  at  the  amazed 
Mr.  Lynch. 

She  made  a  movement  as  if  to  go  to  the  door. 
But  she  turned  back. 

"  I  —  I  don't  understand  your  amusement, 
Mrs.  Stanton,"  said  young  Mr.  Lynch  and,  in 
truth,  he  did  not.  Nor  did  any  other  person 
in  the  room  although  politely  they  assumed 
looks  of  amusement  themselves.  Somehow  they 
felt  it  was  part  of  the  roles  that  Marion  wished 
them  to  play  just  then. 

"  Oh,  this  is  too  good  —  too  good,"  she 
laughed  anew.  "  Forgive  me,  Mr.  Lynch." 

Mr.  Lynch  thought  he  detected  something  of 
the  hysterical  in  her  laughter  now.  But  there 
was  nothing  unnatural  about  the  manner  in 
which  she  turned  toward  the  other  men  in  the 
room.  They  continued  looking  amused  but 
304 


THE  CALLING  305 

their  expressions  were  not  sufficiently  expansive 
to  suit  the  little  woman.  So  she  said  to  them 
with  a  gesture  taking  them  all  in: 

"  Howard  —  did  —  all  of  you  —  did  you 
hear  that?  Did  you  hear  the  name?  What  a 
splendid  joke." 

"  Splendid  —  haw !  haw !  "  uttered  the  Gen- 
eral as  genuinely  as  possible. 

"  Fine  —  ha !  ha !  "  echoed  young  Bob  Liv- 
ingston. 

"  Ho  —  ho,"  choroused  Mr.  Ned  Morris,  "  I 
never  really,  you  know,  heard  anything  like  it !  " 

Whitney  was  not  quite  so  uproarious.  But 
he  obligingly  joined  in  the  laughter  neverthe- 
less. 

"  I  told  Mr.  Lynch,"  he  said  quietly,  "  that  he 
was  on  a  cold  trail." 

But  the  while  young  Mr.  Lynch  had  not  been 
using  his  trained  eyes  and  ears  of  observation 
for  nothing.  He  was  psychically  sure  of  the 
falsity  of  Mrs.  Stanton's  merriment.  And  pal- 
pably that  of  the  men  rang  far  off  the  true. 

"  As  for  Mr.  Lynch,"  said  that  young  gentle- 
man himself  with  a  touch  of  chagrin  in  his 
voice,  "  you  can't  laugh  him  off." 

"  Laugh  you  off?  "  asked  Marion. 


306  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Stanton.  Merely  laughing  at 
my  statement  of  the  identity  of  the  woman  who 
was  in  Mr.  Stanton's  car  does  not  disprove  the 
fact  that  I  have  stated." 

"  Oh  —  Oh, —  of  course,  not  —  Mr.  Lynch," 
she  answered,  "  but  you  must  forgive  my  having 
my  laugh  first." 

She  faced  him  seriously  then  albeit  a  smile 
still  hovered  about  her  lips. 

"  I'll  offer  more  substantial  proof,"  she  said. 

Marion  walked  back  to  the  conservatory  door 
and  opened  it.  The  sound  of  the  talk  and 
laughter  of  the  women,  came  through  it  and  then- 
ceased. 

Marion  with-  agitated  heart  but  a  face  alto- 
gether calm,  and  self -possessed'  looked  within. 

Her  voice  sounded.  It  was  sweet,  absolutely 
dulcet  as  she  called. 

What  she  said  drew  General  Livingston, 
Morris,  Bob  Livingston,  Stanton  and  Whitney 
into  rigid  attention  and  caused  them  a  greater- 
surprise  than  her  sudden  outburst  of  laughter 
uttered  at  Lynch's  statement  of  the  name  of  the 
woman  who  had  been  with  her  husband  in  the 
motor  car. 


THE  CALLING  307 

Little  Mrs.  Stanton,  called  through  the  door- 
way: 

"  Elizabeth ! " 

The  talk  and  laughter  that  had  sounded  in 
the  next  room  was  now  entirely  silenced,  and  in 
the  silence  was  heard  the  rustle  and  swish  of  a 
skirt. 

Astonishment  came  anew  when  the  voice 
within  called  back  in  reply : 

"  Yes,  Marion,  dear !  " 

The  tone  was  as  dulcet  as  Marion's  had  been. 

And  it  was  the  voice  of  Mrs.  Blakemore. 

"  Come  in,"  said  Marion  eagerly. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  entered.  She  hesitated  at  the 
door.  She  was  astonished  as  the  men  had  been 
to  hear  Mrs.  Stanton  address  her  so  familiarly, 
in  such  an  excess  of  sweetness  and  friendliness. 
She  did  not  understand  the  situation.  Yet  she 
was  without  choice  in  the  matter  just  then. 
Having  been  addressed  by  her  first  name, 
courtesy  but  demanded  that  her  return  of  the 
salutation  should  be  the  same.  And  so  she  had 
answered  Marion  in  kind. 

At  sight  of  the  stranger  in  the  room,  she 
halted.  She  was  not  above  being  fearful  of 


308  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

this  new  man.  What  did  his  presence  mean? 
Of  course,  it  could  be  none  other  than  the  re- 
porter. And  if  that  were  true,  what  did  Marion 
Stanton  design  —  design  to  expose  her  there 
and  then  as  being  the  woman  of  the  automobile 
accident;  to  subject  her  before  all,  to  the  re- 
porter's cross-examination. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  tried  very  hard  to  dismiss 
this  fear.  She  gave  herself  the  assurance  that 
as  a  guest  in  the  Stanton  home  no  such  trap 
could  possibly,  would  possibly  be  laid  for  her. 

However,  what  was  the  scheme?  Some  plan 
existed;  some  reason  there  was  for  Mrs.  Stan- 
ton's  so  suddenly  assuming  an  intimate,  almost 
sisterly  affection  for  her. 

Marion  gave  her  little  time  to  turn  these 
things  over  in  her  mind,  rapidly  as  the  thoughts 
did  come  and  go. 

Young  Mrs.  Stanton  was  by  Mrs.  Blakemore's 
side  almost  instantly  and  to  the  further  amaze- 
ment of  the  lady  she  found  the  arm  of  Howard 
Stanton's  wife  affectionately  and  —  uneasily, 
she  understood,  firmly  slipping  around  her  waist. 

"  Don't  say  a  word,  dear,"  said  young  Mrs. 
Stanton  laughing  anew.  "  The  greatest  joke 
you  ever  heard.  Come." 


THE  CALLING  309 

Mrs.  Blakemore  surrendered  in  a  walk  across 
the  room  to  where  Mr.  Lynch  stood  looking 
toward  them  with  puzzled  eyes.  Indeed,  since 
she  was  playing  the  part,  Mrs.  Blakemore  de- 
cided to  do  her  share,  even  if  it  killed  her.  She, 
in  turn,  slipped  her  arm  about  the  waist  of  Mrs. 
Stanton.  The  pair  moved  most  affectionately 
together  if  there  was  anything  to  be  read  in  an 
attitude. 

"  Mr.  Lynch,  of  the  City  News,  may  I  pre- 
sent Mrs.  Elizabeth  Blakemore." 

The  astounded  young  reporter  took  a  very 
firm  grip  on  his  hat.  He  braced  himself  vis- 
ibly. He  was  utterly  at  a  loss  for  a  few  seconds. 

"  Mrs. —  Mrs.  Blakemore !  "  he  was  finally 
able  to  stutter  in  a  dumbfounded  fashion. 

"  Glad  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Lynch,"  said  the 
widow,  readily  and  pleasantly. 

Mr.  Lynch  was  thrown  too  far  out  of  his 
moorings  to  reply  with  ease  or  indeed,  to  reply  at 
all  to  her  greeting.  He  merely  repeated  the 
name. 

"  Mrs.  Blakemore ! "  he  said  in  a  dazed  way. 

Marion  glanced  quickly  at  the  man,  fun  in 
her  eyes. 

"  And  you  see,  Mr.   Lynch,"   she   remarked 


310  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

gaily  and  with  just  a  touch  of  the  vindictive; 
"  she's  not  lame  a  bit  from  her  broken  leg." 
Lynch  winced. 

Mrs.  Blakemore  was  feeling  no  more  at  ease 
than  himself.  She  could  not  tolerate  being 
further  left  in  the  dark  and  yet  being  asked  to 
play  the  principal  role  in  this  scene. 

"  What's  the  joke?  "  she  asked  of  Marion 
Stanton. 

"  Well,'*  said  Marion  tauntingly,  tantaliz- 
ingly,  "  you  would  not  expect,  Mr.  Lynch  — 
now  would  you  ?  —  to  find  the  plaintiff  and  cor- 
respondent so  friendly  ?  " 

"  Plaintiff  —  correspondent !  "  gasped  Mrs. 
Blakemore.  Her  old  fears  came  back  to  her. 
Marion  Stanton  meant  to  throw  the  laws  of  good 
breeding  and  hospitality  to  the  winds  —  meant 
to  let  the  pack  of  reporters  in  on  her;  meant 
probably  to  suddenly  and  fiercely  push  her 
from  her  side  and  melodramatically  denounce 
her.  She  felt  the  arm  of  Marion  Stanton 
tighten  about  her  waist,  as  if  she  did  not  mean 
at  this  minute  to  give  her  a  chance  of  getting 
away.  She  heard  young  Mrs.  Stanton  talking 
to  her. 

"  Yes,  dear,"  she  was  saying ;  "  Mr.  Lynch 


THE  CALLING  311 

came  all  the  way  up  from  down  town  to  tell  me 
that  I  was  going  to  bring  divorce  suit  against 
Howard  —  naming  you  as  the  correspondent. 
Now  wasn't  that  sweet  of  him?  I  think  it  was 
delightful,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  This  is  horrible  —  awful !  " 

A  warning  pressure  came  from  Marion's  arm. 

"  Now,  dear,"  said  the  young  wife,  "  don't 
lose  your  sense  of  humor." 

Then  she  heard  Marion  say  to  the  reporter : 

"  Now,  are  you  satisfied,  Mr.  Lynch." 

Mrs.  Blakemore  gave  inward  thanks.  For 
some  reason  Marion's  intention  was  far  from 
being  one  of  exposure;  it  was  to  shield  her;  to 
show  herself  with  the  woman  in  the  case  on  such 
friendly  terms  that  the  voice  of  the  press ;  the 
hue  and  cry  of  notoriety  must  be  forever  hushed. 

It  was  wonderful  —  unreasonable  almost  that 
young  Mrs.  Stanton  should  do  this  —  should 
want  to  do  this,  but  Mrs.  Blakemore  was  com- 
pelled to  believe  her  own  senses.  There  stood 
Marion  with  her  arm  about  her,  showing  every 
indication  in  outward  attitude  of  friendliness 
and  affection  and  doing  it  evidently  for  the  ben- 
efit of  young  Mr.  Lynch  or  rather  for  the  ob- 
ject of  his  complete  befuddlement. 


312  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

Lynch    found    amazement    after    amazement 
being  piled  upon  him. 

"  Well,"  asked  Marion  again,  "  are  you  sat- 
isfied, Mr.  Lynch  ?  " 

He  hesitated.     He  slowly  thrust  his  hand  into 
the  inside  pocket  of  his  coat. 

"  Forgive  me,  Mrs.  Stanton,"  he  said,  "  but 
you  are  so  conf oundly  clever  that  you  might  — 
well,  you  might,  run  in  a  '  ringer,'  you  know." 
Mr.  Lynch's  purpose  for  reaching  into  his 
inside  pocket  now*  became  apparent.     He  pro- 
duced a  photograph.     He  took  a  long  look  at 
it.     And  then  he  took  a  long  look  at  Mrs.  Blake- 
more.     And  then  he  shook  his  head  affirmatively. 
"  Guess  you  win,  Mrs.   Stanton,"   said  Mr. 
Lynch  of  the  City  News. 

"  Thanks,"  said  Marion  lightly,  satirically 
and  recognized  his  confirmation  with  a  small 
bow. 

Lynch  stood  acutely  regarding  the  two 
women.  It  was  true  that  the  woman  of  the 
automobile  and  the  wife  of  the  man  of  the 
automobile  stood  before  him,  arms  around  each 
other's  waist,  outwardly  the  greatest  and  best 
of  friends,  but  Mr.  Lynch's  reportorial  ex- 
perience had  trained  him  always  to  look  down 


THE  CALLING  318 

beneath  the  surface  of  things.  That  there  was 
a  riddle  here  he  was  quite  sure.  But  the  solu- 
tion of  it  was  not  at  his  hand.  He  cudgeled 
his  brain  fast  and  hard.  He  got  no  answer. 
But  he  had  intuition  and  he  looked  squarely  at 
little  Mrs.  Stanton  and  said: 

"  Yes  —  you  must  be  right.  I  don't  believe 
even  you  could  put  your  arm  about  the  other 
woman." 

He  was  not  insensible  to  Marion's  start  nor 
to  the  gasp  that  came  from  the  on-looking,  over- 
hearing men. 

Yet  Mr.  Lynch  was  helpless  to  go  further. 
Here  were  the  two  women  and  instead  of  being 
at  daggers'  points  he  found  them  embracing  and 
smiling  into  each  other's  faces. 

Mr.  Lynch  was  forced  to  but  one  conclu- 
sion. The  story  might  be  there  but  even  if  it 
was,  no  newspaper  could  print  it  —  would  dare 
to  print  it.  Clearly  there  was  to  be  no  divorce. 

"  Sorry  to  have  disturbed  you,"  said  the  rep- 
resentative of  the  press  finally.  "  Good  night." 

"  Good  night,"  said  Marion  and,  do  what  she 
would,  she  could  not  hide  the  relief  she  felt  as  she 
bade  him  farewell. 

The  next  instant  he  was   outside  the  door. 


314  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

Mrs.  Blakemore  would  have  disengaged  herself 
from  Marion's  embrace  but  Mrs.  Stanton  whis- 
pered swiftly  and  warningly: 

"  Wait  —  wait !  Hold  it !  He  came  back 
last  time."  So  they  stood,  posing  expectantly 
and  with  the  set  smiles  on  their  lips. 

The  door  did  open,  slowly  and  softly. 

Mr.  Lynch  entered. 

His  face  fell  when  he  observed  the  picture 
quite  unchanged. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  quite  the  handsomest  man  I 
have  seen  in  years,"  Marion  said  banteringly  to 
Mrs.  Blakemore,  just  as  if  she  had  not  ob- 
served the  entrance  of  the  reporter. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Mr.  Lynch. 

"  Did  you  forget  your  gloves,  Mr.  Lynch," 
Mrs.  Stanton  asked  sweetly  and  therefore  the 
more  pointedly. 

The  reporter  was  all  out  of  self-possession. 

"Er  —  ah  —  I  thought  so  — but  I  find  I 
was  mistaken.  Good  —  good  night." 

"  Good  night,"  said  both  women  to  him. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

"  I    GIVE    HIM    TO    YOU  " 

THE  instant  that  the  two  women  were  sure 
that  the  reporter  was  gone  not  to  re- 
turn, their  instinctive  dislike  for  each  other 
became  uppermost.  There  was  a  quick  disen- 
gaging of  the  arms  that  they  had  held  about 
each  other's  waists.  There  was  a  broad  widen- 
ing of  the  distance  between  them.  The  men  and 
Mrs.  Blakemore  stood  feeling  the  awkward 
pause  keenly  as  Marion  looked  calmly  at  the 
woman  who  would  have  stolen  from  her  the  love 
of  her  husband. 

But  she  did  not  let  the  pause  become  too 
keenly  awkward.  She  smiled  at  Mrs.  Blakemore 
the  conventional  smile  of  the  conventional  hos- 
tess. 

General  Livingston,  however,  was  perhaps  the 

most  embarrassed  of  all  present.    This  new  order 

of    doing    things ;    this    queer    part    that    his 

daughter  was  playing  was  too  much  for  his  un- 

315 


316  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

derstanding.  However,  he  no  longer  thought 
of  Mrs.  Blakemore  as  a  charming  woman.  He 
saw  only  in  her  his  daughter's  enemy.  He  went 
over  to  his  child  and  said  quietly. 

"  Marion,  I  insist  — " 

But  whatever  he  had  intended  to  insist  upon, 
he  got  no  chance  to  speak.  His  daughter  in- 
terrupted him. 

"  Father,"  she  said  hurriedly,  "  will  you  and 
the  boys  join  the  others.  They  are  waiting, 
Mrs.  Blakemore  and  I  will  come  in  a  few  min- 
utes." 

General  Livingston  did  not  like  this  ordering 
of  things.  He  had  opened  his  mouth  to  speak 
again  when  Marion  said  pleadingly : 

"  Please,  father." 

"  Very  well  then,"  said  the  old  man  and  fol- 
lowed by  his  son,  Ned  Morris  and  Oliver  Whit- 
ney stalked  out  the  room. 

Stanton  was  left  with  his  wife  and  Mrs. 
Blakemore.  Again  there  came  a  pause.  Stan- 
ton  was  not  looking  at  the  widow  at  all.  He  had 
eyes  only  for  his  wife.  Mrs.  Blakemore  on  the 
other  hand,  had  no  eyes  for  him  either.  She, 
too,  was  looking  at  Marion  Stanton. 

Mrs.   Blakemore   did   not   speak   for  several 


«I  GIVE  HIM  TO  YOU"         317 

seconds.  She  stood  with  bowed  head,  her  eyes 
pensive,  her  lips  twitching  half-painfully. 
Finally  she  looked  up. 

"  Mrs.  Stanton,"  she  said  in  her  low,  mellow 
voice ;  "  I  don't  know  how  to  thank  you  for  what 
you  have  done  for  me." 

Marion  almost  imperceptibly  drew  a  little 
further  away. 

"You've  quite  disarmed  me,"  continued  Mrs. 
Blakemore.  "  You  had  it  in  your  power  to 
make  a  very  ugly  scandal  and  —  and  you  saved 
me.  I  am  powerless.  Your  generosity  beats 
me." 

And  now  Mrs.  Blakemore  saw  for  the  first 
time  openly  the  mettle  of  her  rival's  steel  dis- 
played. 

"Did  you  think  I  did  that  for  you?"  de- 
manded Marion.  "  Do  you  think  I  could  have 
done  it  merely  for  you?  Do  you  think  I  did 
that  for  you,  Mrs.  Blakemore  ?  "  she  repeated. 
She  vigorously  shook  her  head. 

"  I  did  it,  Mrs.  Blakemore,  for  my  husband ; 
I  did  it  for  his  honor;  for  his  good  name;  for 
my  own  good  name.  I  did  it  to  save  his  mother 
the  pain  and  despair  of  an  ugly  scandal ;  I  did  it 
to  save  my  own  parents  from  suffering !  " 


318  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

She  whipped  the  other  woman  with  the  glances 
of  her  scornful  eyes. 

Then  suddenly,  she  laughed  and  not  pleas- 
antly. "  I  did  it,"  she  said,  "  to  give  my  hus- 
band a  chance  to  realize  his  true  position." 

It  was  perhaps  not  all  to  Stanton's  credit  that 
he  now  seemed  to  forget  utterly  the  presence 
of  the  widow,  the  fair  object  of  his  flirtation 
and  cause  of  his  faithlessness ;  that  he  knew  and 
realized  only  one  thing  and  that  was  that  Marion 
was  not  lost  to  him.  Her  speech  had  indicated 
that.  She  had  said  practically  that  there  was 
to  be  no  divorce;  she  had  talked  of  sparing  his 
mother  and  her  parents  the  scandal.  Then  it 
could  not  mean  that  she  meant  to  divorce  him 
and  marry  Whitney.  His  joy  and  exultation 
were  stronger  in  him  then  than  any  conventional 
gallantry  could  hold  down. 

He  strode  to  a  place  between  the  two  women. 
He  held  out  both  his  hands.  And  they  were 
shaking  with  the  earnestness  of  his  declaration. 

"  I  do  love  you  Marion,"  he  cried.  "  I  do 
realize  my  position.  I  love  you  —  I  want  you 
• —  you  only  —  you  always." 

He  could  not  perceive  that  Mrs.  Blakemore 
drew  back,  uttering  as  she  did  so  an  exclamation 


"  I  GIVE  HIM  TO  YOU  "          319 

sharply,  one  seeming  to  couple  surprise  and  dis- 
may. 

He  turned  toward  her. 

"  Oh,  my  eyes  are  opened  now,"  he  assured 
the  tall  black-haired  woman.  "  I've  been  a  fool 
—  a  dazzled  fool.  But  now  I  see  clearly  — 
you've  done  that." 

"  I?  " 

"  Yes,  you,  Mrs.  Blakemore." 

"I  —  I  do  not  understand." 

"  You  have  shown  me  what  a  splendid  woman 
my  wife  is  —  you've  done  that  —  shown  me  what 
a  splendid  woman  my  wife  is." 

Mrs.  Blakemore  made  a  little  gesture  of  im- 
patience. 

Stanton  went  toward  his  wife,  his  arms  out. 
But  she  put  up  a  hand  to  stop  him. 

"  No,"  she  said;  "  I'm  through." 

Marion  waved  a  hand  in  the  direction  of  Mrs. 
Blakemore. 

"  Take  him,"  she  said,  "  I  give  him  to  you." 

The  widow  very  decisively  shook  her  head. 

"  Not  for  mine,"  she  declared.  "  You'll  get 
all  that's  coming  to  you  after  I'm  gone.  Good 
night  my  friend;  a  pleasant  evening  and  good 
luck." 


320  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

Elizabeth  Blakemore  thus  sauvely  smothered 
all  the  chagrin  and  anger  that  she  must  have 
felt  as  she  went  steadily  and  even  with  state- 
liness  out  of  the  apartment  and  left  Stanton 
and  his  wife  confronting  each  other. 

Strangely  enough  they  both  stood  for  some 
time  quite  abashed.  Now  that  it  was  all  done, 
that  Howard  had  in  no  unmistakeable  terms, 
scornfully  almost,  dismissed  her  rival  and  was 
again  a  suitor  at  her  feet,  she  felt  strangely  an 
accession  of  shyness,  of  indetennination.  It 
came  as  a  reaction  of  the  nervous  tension  under 
which  she  had  labored  all  night  for  the  end  she 
had  in  view ;  a  reaction  also  of  the  week  of  des- 
perate planning,  of  the  tears  of  fear  and  smiles 
of  resolution. 

"  Marion  —  Marion,"  he  called  to  her,  not 
yet  quite  sure  that  he  might  take  her  in  his 
arms. 

"Has  she  gone?"  asked  Marion  suddenly; 
"  quite  gone  ?  " 

"  Has  who  gone,"  asked  Stanton.  His  eyes 
and  his  mind  were  only  on  one  object  in  the 
room. 

"  Puss  —  has  Puss  gone?  " 


MAJUON,"  HE    SAID    BROKENLY,   "  I'VE    LOVED  YOU    ALL   THB   TIMS**     ?*ff  3* 


"  I  GIVE  HIM  TO  YOU  " 


"  Oh,  she's  not  my  Puss,"  declared  Stanton  in 
impatient  disgust. 

"  Not  your  Puss,  Howard  ;  "  bantered 
Marion.  "  Then  whose  Puss  is  she?  " 

"  God  knows  —  maybe,"  replied  Stanton 
hotly. 

Impulsively  he  came  over  to  her  and  caught 
her  hands.  The  pressure  he  put  upon  them  was 
so  hard  that  it  hurt  her  but  she  bore  the  pain 
almost  ecstatically. 

"  Marion,"  he  said  brokenly,  "  I've  loved  you 
all  the  time  —  all  the  time.  I've  been  a  fool,  — 
a  weak,  dazzled  fool.  I  love  you,  Marion, 
I  love  you." 

He  paused.  And  when  next  his  voice  came  it 
sounded  with  whispering  softness  and  vibrant  it 
was  with  pleading. 

"  Marion,"  he  said,  "  won't  you  take  me 
back?" 

She  put  up  her  hand,  pushing  back  gently  the 
disordered  hair  on  his  troubled  forehead. 

"  Take  you  back?  "  she  asked.  "  Why  I've 
never  given  you  up.  Do  you  think  I  could  stand 
for  that  cat  —  Puss  I  mean  —  in  this  house  and 
me  —  me  —  off  for  Reno  ?  " 


A  WOMAN'S  WAY 


She  felt  then  the  pressure  of  Howard  Stan- 
ton's  youthful,  sinewy  arras  harder  than  she 
had  ever  felt  them  before.  And  the  kiss  he  put 
upon  her  lips  told  more  keenly  and  surely  in 
its  intensity  of  the  complete  revival  of  his  love 
than  all  words  could  have  done. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

THE   BACHELOR 

T  TNGALLANT  of  Howard  Stanton  it  may 
\*_J  have  been,  and  inhospitable  too  of  both 
him  and  Marion  —  but  so  engrossed  were  they 
in  the  finding  anew  of  their  old  love,  so  de- 
lighted in  the  realization  that  it  had  never  been 
dead,  but  had  only  waned  under  unconscious 
neglect  —  that  Mrs.  Blakemore  was  left  to  make 
her  exit  quite  unattended  and,  therefore,  con- 
sciously awkward. 

But  as  she  arrived  at  the  broad  staircase  in 
the  hallway,  on  the  way  to  the  apartment  where 
she  would  find  a  maid  to  help  her  with  her  wraps, 
she  came  upon  Oliver  Whitney. 

He  was  sauntering  in  the  big  drawing-room 
and  was  quite  alone.  Bob  Livingston  had 
joined  his  pert  little  Salie,  and  Ned  Morris  was 
in  dignified  attendance  upon  his  wife,  Belle. 
General  and  Mrs.  Livingston  and  Mrs.  Stanton 
were  eagerly  discussing  the  opera  on  the  pro- 
gram for  the  evening. 

323 


324  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

Whitney,  the  bachelor,  finding  himself  alone, 
was  glad  of  it.  The  events  of  the  night  had 
done  much  to  bring  back  painful  memories. 
Just  as  Marion  and  Howard  had  found  that 
their  love  was  not  dead,  he  had  found  also  that 
his  love  had  only  been  dormant;  that  it  refused 
to  lie  quiescent  in  a  secret  tomb  of  his  heart; 
that  its  spectre  rose  and  tortured  him.  The  lit- 
tle moment,  when  by  reason  of  Marion's  strat- 
egy, he  had  been  permitted  to  play  lover,  to  hold 
her  in  his  arms ;  had  revived  the  dead  past  more 
strongly  than  he  cared  to  own. 

In  slight  degree  a  comparison  might  have 
been  struck  just  then  with  Mrs.  Blakemore  and 
Whitney  as  they  met  in  the  broad  hallway.  Not 
that  she  had  really  loved  Stanton;  not  that  he 
had  been  any  more  to  her  than  the  regiment  of 
others  who  had  gone  before.  But  just  at  this 
moment  she  was  enduring  defeat.  And  Whit- 
ney had  endured  defeat.  Her  defeat  meant  no 
disaster.  His  had  meant  the  death  of  all  op- 
portunity ever  in  his  life  to  know  full  happi- 
ness. 

Whitney  bowed  and  smiled  when  he  saw  her, 
secretly  envying  the  nature  that  he  knew  would 
find  ready  consolation  in  the  next  man  probably 


THE  BACHELOR  325 

that  she  met  or,  at  any  rate,  in  the  next  after 
that. 

"  Oliver,"  she  said  with  a  tone  of  familiarity 
that  was  also  a  memory  to  him,  "  I  am  going 
home.  Will  you  be  my  escort?  " 

"But,  Stanton?" 

"  Bother  Stanton,"  she  said. 

He  lifted  his  eyebrows. 

"  Howard  is  in  with  his  wife.  He'd  rather 
stay  there,  I  am  sure,"  she  said  with  an  attempt 
at  the  jocular  that  only,  however,  succeeded  in 
bringing  a  wry  smile  to  her  lips. 

"  Well,  of  course,  I  shall  be  delighted,"  said 
Whitney.  "  I'm  always  glad  to  play  utility 
parts." 

She  frowned. 

"  O,  you  must  not  take  that  too  seriously," 
said  Oliver.  "  Of  course,  I  shall  be  glad  to  be 
your  escort  to  your  home." 

"  For  old  time's  sake?  "  said  the  widow  softly. 

Whitney  bowed. 

And  when  finally  they  were  ensconced  in 
Whitney's  motor  car  and  had  ridden  a  long  time 
in  silence,  the  widow  said : 

"  After  all,  Oliver,  do  you  know  that  I  never 
really  liked  any  one  so  much  as  you." 


326  A  WOMAN'S  WAY 

"  After  all?  " 

She  bit  her  lip. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  slowly,  "  that's  what  I  mean. 
After  all  —  after  I  think  of  all  of  those  I  have 
known,  you  are  most  genuine  and  the  wisest." 

"I?" 

"  Yes ;  you.  The  others  I  played  with.  But 
you,  you  I  always  knew  only  played  with  me  — 
quite  as  I  played  with  you.  And  if  —  if  — 
perhaps  you  had  not  been  so  willing  to  regard  it 
all  as  mere  —  mere  play,  why  — " 

"Why,  then,"  laughed  Oliver  easily,  "I'd 
have  been  like  the  others." 

He  handed  her  out  at  her  apartment,  pleas- 
antly refusing  an  invitation  to  remain  awhile 
and  smoke  a  cigarette  and  take  a  cup  of  coffee; 
and  having  discharged  his  duty  as  escort  ordered 
his  car  to  go  to  the  opera  house,  where  he  sat 
out  an  act  in  company  with  General  Livingston, 
Mrs.  Livingston  and  Mrs.  Stanton. 

Immediately  afterwards  he  went  home.  His 
man  was  ready  with  his  dressing-gown,  his  cigar 
and  had  the  easy  chair  drawn  before  the  fire- 
place. 

Seating  himself,  Whitney  dismissed  the  valet. 
When  the  man  was  gone,  he  went  to  an  old  writ- 


THE  BACHELOR  327 

ing  desk  and  out  of  it  took  a  leather  portfolio 
and  out  of  this  he  drew  five  photographs.  All 
were  of  Marion  Stanton.  They  showed  her 
from  girlhood  to  that  day  when  she  donned  her 
wedding  gown. 

One  after  the  other  he  looked  at  them  and  then 
again  and  again  he  slowly  passed  them  in  review. 
He  puffed  slowly  at  his  cigar  until  the  heat  of 
its  consuming  end  grew  hot  on  his  fingers.  He 
threw  it  away.  But  he  went  on  sitting  before 
the  fire,  the  photographs  in  his  hand.  He  no 
longer  looked  at  them,  but  looked  instead  into 
the  curling  flames. 

And  so  he  sat  till  dawn. 


THE    END 


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